


The Great Tea War

by JoyceLop



Series: Tea Time [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, College, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Crack, Humor, M/M, Romantic Comedy, how do tags on ao3 even work i am very new to this, seriously guys it's basically a rom com i promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 05:00:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 30,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1102706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoyceLop/pseuds/JoyceLop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean Kirschstein was perfectly happy with his part-time job at Sawney's Kettle, a specialized tea shop with a moderately hipster vibe. That is until another tea shop opened up in the same mall. </p><p>Now, as a fierce competition between the two tea stores rages on, Jean finds himself torn between his allegiance to his job (and paycheck) and the handsome freckled employee serving up tea in enemy territory. </p><p>A story of two tea-crossed lovers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Hint of Maté

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote a lot of Kingdom Hearts fanfiction back in the day. Around high school I stopped and got less involved in fandom stuff. Then, somewhere between my sophomore and junior year of college, this thing called Shingeki no Kyojin came along and /ruined my life/. Now this is happening. I don't know why either but I'm just gonna roll with it.

            A gust of wind was blowing up leaves around the walkways of Mall Maria. After a particularly strong rush, Jean Kirschstein found himself with a leaf sticking to the side of his face. Muttering a few choice curses under his breath, he quickly wiped the dead leaf off his face, straightening his triangle scarf and trying to look cool despite it all. It was the middle of October and the weather was finally reaching the kind of brisk autumn chill that so many people spent the rest of the year idealizing and longing for. Considering himself a person of fairly fashionable tendencies (or just a _frigging diva_ as Eren would put it), Jean could understand this; fall was the right temperature for the best outfits.

He continued walking down the cobbled paths winding through Mall Maria, his footsteps in time with the beat of the music currently being fed to his brain from his headphones. As he passed by the mall’s ice cream store Pixis Creamery, he debated treating himself to some ice cream later in the week, and perhaps bugging Sasha or Connie if either of them were working. For now, he was headed to work, and the front of Sawney’s Kettle (“Tea for the Soul”) came into view as soon as he turned the corner.

Hanji was outside today, wearing a knitted unbuttoned sweater over her uniform as she handed out free samples to various passerby. She grinned her borderline manic grin at Jean as he approached and he returned the greeting with a nod of his head, quickly weaving through the small crowd queuing for free samples and entering the tea store.

One of the perks of his job, Jean frequently thought, was the way the store greeted you. Every time he came in for a shift all he had to do was set foot on the store’s premise and a strong waft of the various teas at Sawney’s Kettle would rise up and envelope him in its delicious embrace.

“Yo, Kirschstein, you’re late! Get behind the counter!”

“Shut up, Jaeger!” Jean shouted his response automatically and rolled his eyes, pulling his headphones off with one hand while pushing open the door to the back with the other. Once in back, he quickly shed his outdoor wear and proceeded to straighten his green and black plaid scarf before returning to the floor of the store.

There was a strong hint of maté in the air today, and Jean was pleased to see Eren brewing a fresh pot for customers to sample by the shelves displaying their fancier tea pots. Once he had clocked in, Jean yelled across the room at Eren once more, “I’m not even five minutes late, Jaeger, calm yourself!”

Even from behind the counter he could hear Eren’s response of “tch.” And Jean was quick to smirk at the room at large before throwing in a quick pitch, “Speaking of calming, we have some wonderful white and jasmine teas that are perfect for soothing your nerves and relieving tension.”

“Jean, you are the actual lamest person I know, you hear me?” Eren spoke loudly and got a laugh from Jean as his only response.

Most of the customers seemed to understand that this back and forth banter was largely friendly and looked on in amusement, though (as always) there were the mild-mannered looking on in mild concern.

Once Eren was done setting up the new sampling station, he returned to the counter to help Jean with serving customers, striking up their usual conversation during lulls in the shift.

“You coming to Mikasa’s match this weekend?”

“Sure, when is it?”

“Saturday afternoon. Armin was hoping to grab dinner afterwards with everyone.”

Jean pinched the bridge of his nose. “We have practice later that night, Jaeger. It’d kind of be a problem if the lead singer and lead guitarist weren’t there.”

“I know that, dude, chill, it won’t take that long. I’m not bailing on rehearsal,” said Eren, “besides, I thought your pretty voice was all the group needed?” he taunted.

“Fine, fine,” said Jean, bringing up a hand to shove Eren’s knitted beanie down over his eyes, “by the way, did you get the chance to look over those lyrics I sent you?”

“Mm,” Eren pulled his beanie back into place and fiddled with the edges, “I glanced at them, but I’ve been a little busy. Geology exam yesterday.” 

“Alright, well just be sure to take a look before rehearsal,” said Jean wearily, “I’ll have Ymir check them out as well.”

“Right ‘cause our drummer is so great with words,” Eren snorted.

“She’s good at keeping lyrics in check, and I was a little worried this song kind of got away from me,” said Jean, “and about Saturday, I’ll have to see. I can probably do dinner but I have a listening exam on Monday so I want to get at least some studying done during the day.”

Eren frowned, “Okay but you should really try to make it. Armin said Mikasa likes it more if we’re all there.”

Jean nodded, although he thought to himself that Mikasa managed to be a pretty damn kick ass martial artist with or without her friends in the crowd. Besides, it meant much more for Armin and Eren to be there than Jean.

The rest of the shift went by quietly and Hanji even let both Eren and Jean off a little early, assuring them that she could finish closing the store by herself. Eren swore she was the best manager while Jean nodded in affirmation. The two were quick in grabbing their things and leaving after sufficiently thanking her.

They walked part of the way home together since their apartments were in the same general direction. Eventually, Eren turned off and left Jean to himself. The 20 year old music major didn’t mind though. As a junior, he was perfectly familiar with the campus of Trost University and comfortable being on his own. _Besides_ , he thought as he worked his way up the stairs of his apartment building, _when I get back to the apartment there’s always the chance that-_

“Christa…”

- _Ymir will have company…_

To their credit, Ymir and Christa broke apart as soon as Jean stepped into the apartment, and Christa had the sense to look mildly embarrassed.

“Sorry, Jean,” she said, offering him her usual sweet smile.

Ymir just smirked at him while playing with her girlfriend’s glossy yellow hair, “You’re home a little early.”

Jean waved away Christa’s apology (he was far too accustomed to this for it to truly faze him) and answered Ymir, “Hanji let us out early today. Said she could close on her own.”

Jean took in the scene: plates with the remains of Thai food were sitting on the coffee table and a _Breaking Bad_ rerun was on the TV.  He shook his head and smirked, finally speaking, “Whatever, just be sure to keep your dick in your pants while you’re out in the living room, Ymir.”

“Oi!” the freckled woman yelled at him before launching a wadded up napkin at the back of Jean’s head. He scowled when it found its mark and flicked her off right before walking into the kitchen and grabbing some ramen. After the microwave beeped, he grabbed his small meal and headed over to his room, leaving his roommate and her girlfriend to their business.

There wasn’t much homework to get done today, just an article to read for his music history class. As he settled down at his desk, Jean took the opportunity to finally check his phone while his laptop powered up. One missed call from home. He blew out a puff of air in irritation, put it to the side, and turned his attention back to his laptop and his ramen.

That was how Jean Kirschstein spent the rest of the night, reading up on Chicago Jazz while shoveling soupy noodles in his face and occasionally checking his Facebook feed and other sources of distraction. Overall, he was quite content (at least by Jean standards). He sincerely enjoyed working for Hanji at Sawney’s Kettle, he enjoyed being lead singer and bass player in The Scouting Legion and had even been able to register the band with the University’s music program so that they got paid more at gigs, and classes for the semester were going well enough.

In many ways, it was the most content Jean had been in a long time. Sure he got a little lonely sometimes between Ymir and her girlfriend and feeling like a fourth wheel to the trio that was Eren, Mikasa and Armin, not to mention his tenuous (at best) relationship with his parents… But hey, none of that was new to him, nor did he expect any of it to change anyways so there was no need to factor those things into account when calculating how content Jean Kirschstein was or was not. At least, that was what Jean told himself as he stripped off his skinny jeans and Sawney’s Kettle t-shirt before pulling on a pair of sweats and crashing into unconsciousness.

On the other side of campus, Marco Bodt had just finished filling out an application and was hovering over the submit button.

  ***

            Hanji leaned against the counter and surveyed her store one last time. Wiping a very thin sheen of sweat off her brow, she finally clocked out and gathered her things to make her way home. It was much darker by this point, but the many streetlamps lining the paths of Mall Maria made the shopping center especially beautiful at night.

Hanji shivered. As pretty as it was, her jacket offered very little protection from the evening air so she picked up her pace and began hurrying to her car. As she crossed through the north end of the mall, she glanced at the empty store front that had yet to be taken over. It was rare for openings to stay vacant for so long in Mall Maria and employees of the mall had been speculating as to what would fill the empty space for quite some time.

If Hanji had stopped to take a longer look at the storefront, she would have noticed a new coming soon poster had popped up between the other various advertisements the mall had plastered to the store’s windows when it first went out of business.

 ***

It would be much more romantic to say that Jean’s room was faintly illuminated by moonlight filtered through his bedroom’s window blinds but in reality it was just runoff from the street lights bathing the room in a faintly orange glow. Jean was lying on his stomach with one arm curled around the pillow. At one point the blanket had slid down his back, exposing his second tattoo. It was a pair of stylized wings in an emblem. Bertholdt had designed it back when they had first formed The Scouting Legion freshmen year: Ymir on drums, Eren on lead guitar, Bert on keyboard, and Jean singing and playing bass. All four of them had gotten the wings tattooed to the upper right corners of their backs.

Jean rolled back onto his back, letting out a frustrated sigh. He was having trouble sleeping, which was nothing unusual for him but was pretty damn frustrating considering that he’d been meaning to catch up on sleep tonight, not lose more of it. His irritation was cut short however when he heard it.

 _Sssssssssss_ …

His eyes popped open but he remained frozen on his back as he waited for more noise.

A distinct scuttling broke the silence.

“Aaaah…” was the quiet noise that left Jean’s mouth as he slowly sucked in air. With all the rigidity and verve of a sloth, he pushed himself into a seated position and began scanning the room. The scuttling continued on and off for a while until it finally sounded close.

Fighting back the urge to cry, Jean peeked over the side of his bed…

…And screamed at a decibel he would never have dreamed was possible.

The cockroach, as if sensing him, let out another hiss.

From across the hall, Ymir’s “WHAT THE FUCK?” was distinctly heard before the door to Jean’s room was thrown open. Ymir burst into the room, her eyes wild and hair disheveled. Had Jean been capable of making observations, he would have noted how wolf-like she looked.

As it was, he stood on his bed and, without hesitating, sprang at Ymir. His roommate blinked once before her reflexes kicked in and she braced herself to catch Jean, who landed bridal style in her arms and clung to her like a lifeline.

“Jean, what the hell?!”

“Look! _LOOK_!” he yelled, voice still a few octaves higher than its usual. He pointed one long shaking finger at the offending creature on the ground. Ymir took one look at the large black spot hissing on the floor and promptly joined Jean in screaming.

“YOU FRIGGING IDIOT, JEAN, WHY DIDN’T YOU KILL IT?!”

“YOU KILL IT! I ALREADY HAD TO WAKE UP TO THIS SHIT.”

“I’M NOT KILING THAT THING, FUCK THAT NOISE!”

“THEN I’M MOVING OUT AND THE COCKROACH CAN BE YOUR NEW ROOMMATE, BITCH!”

“WHAT DID YOU JUST CA- OHSHITOHSHIT IT’S **_MOVING_**.”

Somewhere amidst the chaos, Christa had come out of Ymir’s room and now she calmly walked past the panicked duo; there was something biblical about the moment and the way she walked towards the cockroach, seemingly unperturbed by the terror that was the bug on the rug. With all the grace of a god, the petite blonde swiftly closed the distance between herself and the cockroach, whipped out a clear plastic container from who knows where, and trapped the cockroach under it all in one fluid, effortless motion.

Stunned silence followed this feat—this act of god—and Ymir and Jean remained frozen in the doorway. Both of them stared open mouthed at the sight before them. Christa was the only one moving as she quickly twisted the jar on the cap shut.

With that done, she straightened up and smiled pleasantly at the two, “Well, that sure was something, huh? C’mon Ymir, let’s go back to bed.”

            That was enough to snap Jean out of his stupor and he slowly ambled down from Ymir’s arms.

            “H-hold on a minute, I’m not sleeping with that,” he pointed for emphasis, “in my room.”

            Christa shrugged and offered him a simple smile, “Then take care of it.”

            Jean looked to Ymir for assistance but the woman was staring at her girlfriend as if she’d never seen anything quite like her before.

            Jean cast a nervous glance back at the cockroach in its plastic jail and resumed his efforts, “Can’t- can’t you kill it?”

            “I’m not gonna kill it,” Christa shook her head and before Jean could protest further, she headed back into Ymir’s bedroom. Jean turned to Ymir who was finally coming around and staring at the cockroach. Her brows knitted together and a frown crossed her face.

            “Jean… What if there are _more of them_?”

            Horror pierced Jean’s heart and, without talking it over or confirming in any way what they were doing, he and Ymir began pouring over every inch, every nook and cranny of their apartment. The search lasted almost half an hour but by the time they were done they had confirmed that the cockroach had indeed been operating alone.

            That only left one matter unresolved…

            “I’m not killing it.”

            “But, Ymir-”

“Look, just because you can scream higher than me doesn’t mean I’m obligated to take care of your shit-”

“ _My_ shit? It’s a fucking c-”

“Well, I’m still not taking care of it.”

“Can’t you get Christa to-”

“Nope. You heard her. She’s not doing it.”

“But, Ymir-”

“Nope.”

Jean huffed and, cringing, he stooped to pick up the container. Shooting Ymir a dirty glare, he walked out into their living room and set the plastic prison down on a relatively unused end table. Ymir, who was watching him, deepened her frown.

“I’m not killing it either,” muttered Jean, folding his arms and looking very much like a five year old putting his foot down.

Ymir cocked an eyebrow, and looked thoroughly unamused, “Then I guess it stays.”

“Until it dies in the jar on its own.”

“Agreed.”

“Agreed.” Jean cast a nervous glance over his shoulder at the living room.

“Good night, Jeannie.”

Flipping Ymir off for the second time that night, Jean huffed and marched into bed while Ymir slinked back into her room, both of them trying very hard not to think of the new house guest they had acquired that night.

 ***

            “How’d that group project end up?”

            Marco Bodt looked up from his laptop and turned his attention towards Thomas Wagner. The blonde grunted in response to Mina Carolina’s question and typed a few more words on his laptop before fully turning his attention to his friends.

            “It went like any other group project, Mina. One person took the lead, two of us did our best to keep up, and the fourth guy fell off the face of the Earth.”

            Mina frowned, “Well do you think the grade’ll be fine?”

            “Oh, I’m sure,” he said, “I just don’t know why Profs insist on group projects when they just end up being a pain for everyone and you know the work is never going to be fairly distributed.”

            Marco bit his lip a little, “The group projects I’ve had in the education program have been fine so far. People actually get really intense about them.”

            “That’s different,” said Mina, “you guys are in a program that’s training you for a very specific career. Aren’t all the group projects you’ve had just for the history secondary ed. minors?”

            “Yeah, I’ve only had group projects with the cohort,” Marco admitted, scratching his forehead a little. Thomas chuckled.

            “Future high school social studies teachers have to be passionate I guess.”

            “Well,” Marco continued scratching his head, “maybe the problem is having group projects in big classes or like gen eds. In classes like that, there’s going to be a bigger discrepancy in how much people care about the project so it ends up being the people who care the most who do the work.”

            “That’s a good point,” said Mina.

            Marco nodded and the trio returned their attention to their laptops. The three of them had been friends in high school and coincidentally, were three of the only people to come to Trost University from their high school, although Marco had only just transferred to the school. He had spent his first two years eliminating gen eds and taking history courses at their hometown’s local college to save money and prepare for starting at Trost his junior year. Perhaps it was because he had waited to be at this University but he couldn’t help but feel disappointed with how lackluster the secondary education program was.

            Temporarily ignoring the paper he was working on, Marco went to check his email and paused when he saw the subject line sitting near the top of his inbox, “Guys… I think I got a job.”

            His friends looked up and smiled, “That’s great!”

            “Yeah, yeah, it’s that tea shop I applied to a few days ago. I guess they really need the workers or something,” he squinted and his eyes narrowed as he read the email, “The manager wants… the new hires to come in and clean…?”

            Mina blinked, “The tea shop in the mall right? Sawney’s Kettle or something?”

            “No,” Marco shook his head, “it’s a new store. Stohess Leaves. I knew they were just opening but I hadn’t realized there was this much left to do before the store could open. He wants us to help set up the store!”

            “At least you’ll be paid,” Thomas shrugged, “it can’t be that bad.”

            “Yeah that’s true.”

            “And it’ll be nice to get to know a bunch of the people you’ll be working with,” said Mina, “that’ll help with shifts.”

            “And don’t forget,” Thomas added, “you’re lucky you were even able to find a job around campus this late in the semester. We told you to look earlier, man.”

            “Okay, okay,” Marco laughed and held up his hands in mock surrender, “I get it…” He trailed off and resumed looking through the details of the email, “Looks like we’re setting up Friday. I’ll be able to head in after class.”

            He was just about to return to his paper when conversation struck up again.

Mina tapped her lip thoughtfully, “It is weird though… How many tea shops does one mall need? I mean it’s not like either store sells anything other than tea products right?”

Marco and Thomas both shrugged at her.

 “It is kind of weird, but I assume the store owner put some level of thought into making the decision. As long as the store doesn’t go out of business I can’t imagine it being a problem.”

Marco quickly added his first day of work to his calendar before returning to his paper once more, briefly making a note to wear clothes he didn’t care about to Stohess Leaves on Friday; it seemed like things were going to get messy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a little shorter than I wanted it to be but ultimately I decided this was the best way to end chapter one. :) I've been out of the fanfic writing game for a while but I hope someone else out there enjoyed this. Many thanks to my friends Taylor and Arron who read it over for me and soothed my anxieties about posting it! >


	2. Pumpkin Spice Prelude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jean carries on with life as usual, Marco gets settled into his new job, and the war of the tea shops begins...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was fiercely determined to get this chapter done as quickly as possible for various reasons. Enjoy!

The morning after the cockroach fiasco found Jean ambling through his apartment, still groggy and wearing his bedhead. From her perch on the kitchen counter, Ymir snorted, “You’re not gonna seduce anybody walking around shirtless like that, Princess.”

Jean smirked at her over his steaming mug of tea, “Maybe not in this apartment.”

            Christa laughed while continuing to make French toast for everybody. She flipped a couple of slices in the pan and looked at Jean curiously, “Jean, do you think you’ll get another tattoo anytime soon?”

            Jean answered her as he walked into the living room, “Oh yeah, I think I’ll definitely get more,” he placed his mug of tea on the coffee table and stretched, absentmindedly scratching his left arm and letting his fingers roam over the intricate music themed pattern that made up his sleeve tattoo, “I want one on my right shoulder or maybe something else on my back.”

            “Cool,” Christa chirped, beginning to stack the French toast on a spare plate, Ymir came off the counter and began prowling towards the food.

            Jean flopped down onto the couch but leapt back up again almost immediately, letting out a small shriek as he did so. It didn’t take long for his eyes to land on the cockroach still sitting in its jar on the coffee table and hissing away.

            “ _What_ ,” Jean began, “are we going to do… about that _thing_?”

            Ymir glanced at the cockroach’s jar, “ _I’m_ not touching that thing.”

            The two roommates turned their gaze on Christa simultaneously, but the girl only said pleasantly, “I already told you both, I won’t kill it.”

            Jean let out a frustrated huff, “Then I guess it really is staying.”

            Ymir chuckled a little, “What should we name it?”

            The cockroach hissed again and three sets of eyes watched it crawling along the edges of the jar. Christa hummed thoughtfully, “It kind of reminds me of this pastor from back home. After I came out, he never shut up about God and saving my soul from corruption.”

            “What was his name?” asked Jean, shooting a disdainful look at the cockroach.

            “Pastor Nick.”

            “Then Pastor Nick it is,” said Ymir around a mouthful of French toast. From within the jar, Pastor Nick hissed again.

***

In the few months he had been at Trost University, Marco had actually never set foot on the mall located near campus. He wasn’t one for shopping and really hadn’t had any pressing consumer needs so far this semester. Plus hanging out at the mall wasn’t really Thomas, Mina, and his first choice to pass the time. They usually just hung out in someone’s dorm/apartment, sometimes playing Settlers of Catan or Egyptian Rat Screw, and only rarely going out for food or drinks or parties.

Starting to feel more than a little lost as he searched for Stohess Leaves, Marco paused in front of a directory. He managed to scan about half of the stores listed before he realized that Stohess probably wasn’t even listed yet, smacked himself on the forehead, and continued on his way.

At this point, Marco was starting to worry he’d be late if this kept up and he _really_ didn’t want to be late on his first day. _Come on, where are you? It shouldn’t be this hard to find one store why is this mall so b-_

“Whoa! Sorry,” Marco spun around to avoid crashing into a random stranger at the last second. He looked the young man over, his two tone hair, the various piercings in his ears, and the apathetic look on his face, “Sorry.” He repeated himself.

The stranger gave him a strange look before shrugging it off, “Whatever.”

He turned and was about to walk away when a thought suddenly occurred to Marco. The freckled student reached forward and grabbed the other by the shoulder, “Hey wait- ah, sorry!” he retracted his hand as soon as he’d made contact with the other’s shoulder.

Now the stranger really was giving him a weird look and Marco flushed a little despite himself, “Um, sorry, it’s just… I’m running late, I can’t seem to find the tea shop?”

One eyebrow arched, and finally the strange spoke, “I’m heading there for work right now, come on.”

“Oh, okay,” Marco broke into a wide smile, “that’s great, because I’m actually-”

“Look, I’m running late so just come on,” said the other, jerking his thumb for added measure and resuming his course at a fast pace. Marco flushed a little at this and mumbled a quiet “sorry” while hurrying to keep up with the other.

Less than a minute had passed before Marco decided to take a stab at conversation again.

“I’m Marco, by the way,” he said.

There was a pause and, looking at the back of his head, Marco felt like he could almost read the other’s mind: _What is it with this guy?_ He could not, however, tell whether that sentiment was conveying amusement or annoyance and he wondered if he would even get a response when-

“Jean.”

Marco’s face broke out into a grin and he couldn’t help but, “Cool name! French, right? Are you from France?”

A weary sigh met his questions, and Jean stopped walking abruptly to point out the obvious, “We’re here.”

Marco blinked. But they weren’t there. At least, not where he’d wanted to be.

“Oh! No, um,” he bit his lip while looking up at the sign that read Sawney’s Kettle, “I meant the other tea shop… Sorry…”

Jean’s eyebrows knit together, “What other tea shop?”

“St-”

“Jean! Get in here and start brewing!”

Jean actually jumped at the shout and whipped around—his cool, uncaring demeanor ruptured. It was almost cute, although Marco really wasn’t about to let himself go there. A woman with dark hair and freckles was gesturing at him from the doorway to the store. _She seems pretty… intimidating,_ Marco couldn’t help but think.

Jean waved back to her, “Alright, alright, I’m on it!” before turning back to Marco. He actually looked a little sheepish, “Er, sorry about that. Anyways, I gotta run but good luck finding whatever store you’re looking for.” He paused on his way into the store and added as an afterthought, “But if you’re trying to buy tea… I mean you can obviously get it here.”

And with that said, he took off into the store. Marco watched his retreating form for a moment, torn between laughing at how easy it was to get Jean to let down his bad-boy-couldn’t-care-less attitude and going into the store to make sure Jean hadn’t gotten in trouble for being late.

At that last thought, Marco was brought crashing back to reality; his original purpose in being at the mall crashing back to the forefront of his mind. _Oh crap!_ was all he thought before tearing off across the mall. By this point he was absolutely frantic with the knowledge that he was already late and was only getting later with each passing moment. _What a great first impression I make…_

***

            “Jean, you studly little punk you!” Ymir crowed as she wrapped an arm around Jean’s neck from behind. If she had tightened her arm around him, it would have been a chokehold; Ymir had a strange tendency to employ potentially violent actions and gestures in perfectly innocent contexts.

            Jean coughed at the pressure on his neck and quickly shoved her off before returning his attention to the pumpkin spice oolong he was brewing (Hanji wanted to cater to “the people’s seasonal love affair with autumn” as she put it). Ymir was still grinning like a Cheshire Cat at him and he tried to ignore it; quite frankly, it creeped the fuck out of him.

            “So, who was that fine piece of ass I saw you chatting with outside?” she asked, and Jean couldn’t help but think she sounded like a meat carver at a deli ( _“Ah yes, this ass. The finest ass we sell. Fresh too! Cut this morning! Very good bargain, don’t miss out!”_ ). Ymir the Ass Dealer, he would have to remember to tell Christa about that one later.

            Smirking a little at the mental image, Jean took a whiff of the tea before answering Ymir, “He was just lost or something. He asked me where to find the tea shop. But then he said this wasn’t the one he was looking for so I don’t even know what the hell he wanted now.”

            “I guess I had it the other way around,” said Ymir, “sounds like he was the one chasing after the ass.”

            Jean snorted, but also paused to consider this, “I don’t think so. It seemed like he was just a really open guy. He must be more lost than he thought if this isn’t the tea store he meant though.”

            Ymir eyed his expression critically, “Not like you to stop and help a random stranger though. _Did_ you find him cute?”

            “I guess,” Jean flushed and added, “but it’s no big deal.”

            His sadistic roommate broke into a harsh round of laughter at that, “I had no idea, Jean. Really if I had known you’re into freckles,” she invaded his personal space, grabbing him by the neck and pulling him close until his ear was only an inch from her mouth, “I would’ve helped you out _long_ ago.”

            Jean’s face lit up and he quickly shoved her off, “I already said it wasn’t like, Ymir!”

            She was laughing even harder at this point and Jean silently thanked whatever higher power there was that there weren’t many customers around and most of them were congregated up by the counter where (again thankfully) there was another employee tending to their needs.

            “Aw, come on Jeannie, you’re into girls too, right?”

            Regaining some of his composure, Jean rolled his eyes, “You act all suave and shit but you can’t trick me. I’ve seen you swooning all over Christa.”

            “Yeah… Christa is special,” said Ymir, sobering up at Jean’s statement and smiling a very sincere smile. Her blonde girlfriend might not have been anywhere near the two of them at the moment, but Jean had known Ymir (and her relationship) long enough to know that when Ymir smiled like that she was smiling for Christa and no one else. It was hard not to feel a twinge of jealousy over their relationship from time to time.

            “Get back to work, love-struck lesbian,” he said, shaking his head and giving Ymir a light shove on the shoulder.

            “Love-struck lesbian?” she laughed and grinned back at him wolfishly, making one last crack, “Don’t worry, Jeannie, it would be easy enough to pretend you’re my type.”

            Jean made a point of dramatically rolling his eyes as Ymir sauntered off and finally returned to manning the floor and helping the customers. The two of them both made a point of avoiding eye contact with their fellow employee who seemed more than a little annoyed about their moderately unprofessional conversation they’d taken the time to have in the middle of a shift with customers around.

            Once he was satisfied with the sample station for the oolong, Jean went behind the counter, refilling the containers of tea they used to prepare orders for customers. It was a relatively mindless part of the job, and he found his attention wandering back to his run in with Marco.

 _“Whoa! Sorry… Sorry.”_ In all honesty, it had been a really cute reaction to almost bumping into somebody—not unlike how Armin would have handled the situation. In retrospect, he probably could have been a little more polite with Marco. Not that polite was really his style per se, _but still_ ; Marco was a good looking guy, didn’t that warrant slightly kinder behavior?

 _“Hey wait- ah, sorry!”_ Then again, surprise physical contact from strangers wasn’t exactly Jean’s favorite thing, and Marco’s forwardness had really thrown him off his game. _Yes_ , he reassured himself, _that was it. He was just so friendly._ It really had been a weird way to meet someone.

 _“Um, sorry, it’s just… I’m running late, I can’t seem to find the tea shop?”_ It was such a strange coincidence that he was looking for the tea shop of all places too. Even though Sawney’s Kettle was, apparently, not what he was looking for. _That’s still weird_ , thought Jean, _maybe I should have let him finish his sentence_.

 _“Oh, okay! That’s great, because I’m actually-”_ Yeah, it probably would have been useful to hear the end of that. Still, Marco had seemed so unfazed by Jean’s initially cold reactions. Again, Jean rationalized his behavior, _I_ was _running late to work after all_.

_“I’m Marco, by the way.”_

Jean could still distinctly remember asking himself, _What is it with this guy?_ The abundant friendliness and forward nature. The lack of caring about how cool or aloof he seemed. Just putting himself out there. It was so… strange. _And_ , Jean had thought, _a little amusing_. So amusing, disarmingly open, and fricking **charming** , that Jean had really had no choice but to give up his name in return.

 _“Cool name! French, right? Are you from France?”_ Jean was no stranger to people reacting to his name in this way. It was a little different with Marco though. Usually, people asked with such a probing nosiness that Jean never really felt like answering any of their questions. Besides, questions about his French background only led to thoughts about his parents and he generally tried to avoid that topic if he could help it. But Marco’s overwhelming enthusiasm and his smile that was somehow _audible_ in his voice had again thrown Jean off too much to take issue with the questions (though he had allowed himself one weary sigh at their predictableness).

 _“Oh! No, um… I meant the other tea shop… Sorry…”_ Jean frowned, truly curious about what the hell Marco could have meant. _Other tea shop?_ How many tea shops did Mall Maria _really_ need?

The rest of his shift passed by without event, although Ymir had decided to make Jean’s “freckle fetish” a running joke now. Despite feeling somewhat harassed via Ymir, Jean was content spending the rest of the shift filling tea tins, mixing teas for customers and running the outdoor free sample station for intervals.

***

            By some miracle, Marco was able to find Stohess Leaves shortly after his detour with Jean. After running towards the opposite end of the mall, Marco eventually spotted a shop on one of the corners that had windows covered in posters for advertisements along with one that read: “Coming Soon: Stohess Leaves.”

            As soon as that poster registered in his brain, he dashed inside, out of breath and panicked.

            And with good reason.

            “Oi, shitty brat, you’re late.”

            A broom came flying at Marco. Were it not for the adrenaline rush he was still on from his run to the store, he probably would have missed catching it and been smacked in the face. As it was, Marco’s stunned expression was his only response.

            A short man walked out from behind the counter (which was actually an island in the middle of the store’s main floor). He was glaring at Marco and, despite being at least half a foot taller than this man, Marco felt true fear. In the face of this new terror, Marco couldn’t help but visibly gulp.

            “Are you Levi?”

            “Yes and you’re late.”

            “Ah, yes, I’m sorry I was l-”

            “I don’t care,” Levi walked past Marco and traced a finger along one of the shelves, when he lifted it up Marco could see the dust on the yellow finger of Levi’s yellow cleaning gloves, “this place is filthy.” Levi kicked up the dust and debris settled on the ground, “get cleaning.”

            “Ah, yes, sir!” said Marco, wondering how on earth this man was inadvertently getting Marco to call him ‘sir’ within 30 seconds of meeting him. Pushing these thoughts to the back of his mind, Marco began sweeping feverishly, determined to make up for the time he had lost.

Once he felt himself beginning to calm down, he chanced a glance around the store. A young woman with honey colored hair was scrubbing the counters, armed with Windex and a thick rag. There were two other guys coming in and out of the back room, and Marco figured they were cleaning up back there. Levi had stepped outside of the store and was working on taking down some of the posters stuck to the windows while cleaning the glass from the outside.

Taking advantage of this opportunity, Marco sidled over to the petite woman, making sure to continue sweeping while he did so and occasionally nervously casting his eyes outside to where Levi was, “Is he…?”

“Always like that?” she finished his question and laughed, a clear and pretty laugh, “He’s not so bad once you get used to him. I’ve been helping with some of the store set up throughout the week so we’ve had some time together.”

Marco noted the very delicate blush on her cheeks as she said this and smiled, “Okay. Well good because I was getting a little nervous.”

“No need to be nervous,” she smiled sweetly, “I think Levi will be a great manager. I’m Petra by the way.”

“Marco,” he said, pausing in his sweeping long enough to shake her hand, “Are you a student at Trost?”

“A grad student,” she corrected, laughing at his surprise, “I’m in the English department.”

“Oh, that’s nice!”

“Are you an undergrad?”

“Yeah, I’m majoring in history and minoring in secondary education.”

“I have a lot of friends who went through that education program,” she said, wrinkling her nose a little, “it’s rough, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Marco laughed and scratched the back of his neck, “Yeah, it’s really kind of disa-”

“OI!

Petra and Marco jumped; he nearly dropped his broom. Levi glared at the two of them from the front of the store.

“Get back to cleaning!”

            “Yes, sir!” said Marco, and beside him Petra did an impromptu salute. As soon as they both turned back to their work, Marco heard her giggling to herself as she kept scrubbing. He grinned to himself, looking around the store and surveying all the work there was left to do. _It looks like this won’t be so bad after all…_

***

            Jean had spent the rest of Friday playing videogames and trying to prepare for his listening exam, largely because Armin had contacted him on Friday and guilted him even more about making it to Mikasa’s meet on Saturday. And that’s how Jean found himself as a part of the modestly sized crowd seated in the University’s sports center, waiting for Mikasa’s match to begin with Eren and Armin.

            “Couldn’t get Ymir to come?” asked Eren between mouthfuls of popcorn.

            “Nah, she’s got work today,” said Jean, turning his attention to the matted arena in the middle of the room. Mikasa’s team was walking out onto the mats in their uniforms. Jean looked at the black belt wrapped around Mikasa’s gi and grinned while snatching some popcorn from Eren.

            “Mikasa’s such a badass.”

            Eren laughed while slapping Jean’s hand away as it groped for more popcorn, “Course she is!”

            Armin smiled quietly and asked, “Annie’s competing today too, right?”

            Eren nodded, “Yeah.”

            Jean just continued silently attempting to rob Eren of his popcorn. He’d never been particularly fond of Annie, even if she was close friends with Bert and Reiner; she was so cold and intimidating. Plus her rivalry with Mikasa had always made him sort of uncomfortable about the fact. Down on the floor, Annie and Mikasa seemed to be talking. Jean narrowed his eyes and squinted while Eren and Armin continued chatting. Annie walked away from Mikasa who whipped her head around to look at Annie’s retreating form. The two girls typically had a sense of mutual respect for each other but every now and then one of them crossed the line with the other. Jean frowned as he watched Mikasa pacing now; it wasn’t like her to show signs of nerves before a meet. _What the hell did Annie say to her?_

“Jean,” Armin’s voice snapped Jean out of his musings, “where do you want to grab dinner after the meet?”

            Blinking and turning his attention to Eren and Armin, “I don’t care as long as it’s not somewhere that’ll take too long.”

            “Come on, man,” Eren flicked a couple of kernels at Jean, “We’ll be on time for practice, quit worrying about it.”

            “You’re too reckless,” Jean rolled his eyes.

            “Sorry I don’t have a stick up _my_ -”

            “Guys-”

            “What did you just say, Jaeger?”

            “ _Guys_ -”

            “Why don’t you come over here and ask me ag-”

            “Guys!” Both boys broke it off and looked at Armin who was completely exasperated with the two of them, “Mikasa’s match is about to start, okay? Just cool it and watch.”

            Jean turned his attention to the square that Mikasa and her opponent were occupying. He tried not to be too concerned. Mikasa was used to dealing with Annie after all. There was no reason to believe it would throw her off her game that significantly.

            The match began with Mikasa and her opponent circling each other. Always the aggressive one, Mikasa was the one who first stepped forward, launching at the other girl with a couple of quick kicks. From there the two girls continued their intricate dance, dodging around each other and going on the offensive when they thought they saw an opening.

Armin was leaning forward and wringing his hands in anxiety; he always fretted over Mikasa like a mother hen. Jean would have rolled his eyes if he weren’t the same way, both hands gripped his knees as he leaned forward just as much as Armin. Eren on the other hand…

“YEEEEAH! COME ON, MIKASA!” Eren shouted before proceeding to mutter under his breath, “Kill her, kill her, kill her-”

“Eren, she can’t kill her,” said Armin.

“I _know_ that! I’m just _saying_!”

            Armin and Jean both shared a small chuckle at that, though their eyes remained locked onto Mikasa and her fight. Their black-haired friend seemed to be gaining the upper hand, she had been steadily pushing the other girl back. This pattern continued for a little longer until Mikasa employed a quick feinting motion before charging at the other girl and flipping her flat on her back.

            “YES!” Eren roared, leaping out of his seat and sending a shower of popcorn down on Jean and Armin. They could only care so much though as they joined their friend in clapping and cheering.

            It was only after the moment had passed that Jean began bitching at Eren for getting his outfit covered in greasy popcorn. Once again, Armin had to step between the two to calm them down. They spent the rest of the time talking amongst themselves as Mikasa would not leave before all the University’s martial artists had fought their rounds.

            When the tournament finally ended in Trost’s favor, the three guys quickly made their way down to the exit for athletes. When Mikasa exited the locker rooms, Armin and Eren rushed forward to hug her (or rather get hugged _by_ her, as was usually the case with those three). Jean hung back to let the trio have their moment and in doing so spotted Annie as she too exited the locker rooms. Annie cast a cold gaze on Jean who returned it with a glare; he still didn’t know what she’d said to Mikasa but he wasn’t about to pretend he and Annie were friendly anyways.

Realizing that there was a solid chance Armin would invite Annie along for dinner if he spotted her, Jean moved forward to congratulate Mikasa as well, making a point of pushing the trio along as he did so.

“Nice job out there, Mikasa, now come on let’s get something to eat. We can talk about the match at dinner, come on-”

“Jean, if this is about making it to practice later, I swear-”

“I’m just hungry, alright Jaeger? It’s not my fault you wouldn’t give me any fucking popcorn, come _on_.”

“I’m hungry, too,” said Mikasa quietly, effectively ending the debate.

The group settled on the restaurant Mikasa wanted and got on the next bus headed towards that area. It was a small burger joint that the group frequented; nothing special, but Mikasa had said she just wanted something familiar. As fussy as Jean really had been about fitting the day into his schedule, he couldn’t help but enjoy himself, even though he and Eren had practically made themselves sick when Eren had challenged him to a fucking French fry eating contest of all things.

***

            “I come bearing news!”

            Jean and Eren paused and looked up at Hanji as she stepped into the backroom of Sawney’s Kettle. The two boys were working a morning shift, opening the store and running it during its earliest hours. Since Mall Maria was usually fairly quiet in the mornings, they were supposed to do all of this alone so Hanji’s arrival was a surprise for both. Jean exchanged a puzzled look with Eren before raising his eyebrows at Hanji, “What’re you even doing here?”

            Hanji sighed wearily and pushed her glasses up her nose, “I’m not going to be working the shift with you two if that’s what you’re asking. I’m staying back here to crunch some numbers.” At the confused looks that met her statement, she pursed her lips and continued, “We’ve got trouble.”

            Eren spoke up immediately, “What happened?”

            “Stohess Leaves,” Hanji said before going on to explain, “a new tea shop. They’re opening up in that vacant corner spot that’s been untaken for a while. Another store that only sells tea.”

            _“Oh! No, um… I meant the other tea shop… Sorry…”_

            Jean’s brows knit together, “So what does this mean for us exactly?”

            “There’s no way of knowing for sure,” said Hanji, “but this could easily cut our sales in half. If not worse.”

            Silence met this statement. It was hard to argue with. People only needed so much tea, especially expensive tea from a specialty shop when they could just as easily pick up a giant box of Lipton at any major food store. Eren frowned at the floor while Jean’s eyes remained on his manager.

            “Well,” he began, coughing awkwardly, “we’ve got the advantage, right? Sawney’s Kettle already has an established customer base here. Stohess is the underdog after all.”

            “They’ll have the new store excitement and hype at first though,” said Hanji, although she grinned appreciatively at Jean’s attempt to make things better, “Anyways, you two get back to work. I’ll be back here if you really need me.”

            Jean nodded and began leaving the backroom. Behind him he heard Eren say, “Don’t worry about it, Hanji! We’ll just kick their asses and get them the hell out of our mall. This means war!”

***

            “Listen up!”

            Marco straightened up along with Eld and Gunther; Petra popped her head out of the backroom. All four of them looked at their manager, who was carrying a small stack of papers.

            “You all probably already know this,” he began, “but we’re not the only specialty tea shop in this mall.”

            Everybody nodded silently at Levi.

            “Sawney’s Kettle also sells only tea and tea related products, and they’ve been here longer than us,” a dangerous glint flashed through his eyes, “This mall only needs one tea shop. There’s no way for two stores like this to co-exist in the same shopping center.”

            Marco’s eyes widened. _All I wanted was a part time job, why is this happening?_

            “None of you are to affiliate yourselves with Sawney’s Kettle, nor give them any of your business,” Levi narrowed his eyes at the inhabitants of the room, “Our jobs are on the line here. So unless you _want_ to end up without a job, you’ll stick to these rules.”

            Marco opened his mouth before he could stop himself, “But surely we-”

            He stopped short when he saw Petra shaking her head “NO” ferociously from behind Levi’s back. She widened her eyes at Marco from across the room, and Marco shut his mouth. Levi was glaring daggers at him so he spoke up again, “Um, I mean… Sorry, nevermind. It was stupid.”

            “As I was saying,” Levi carried on, “this means that our first few weeks once we open are crucial to the survival of the store. Since we’ll have just opened, business will be up. We need to use that opportunity to gain some loyalty from the customers. There’s no room for error. You all have to be ready to provide the best service possible.”

            The employees present all remained rigidly vigilant as Levi continued debriefing them on what this would mean for their work and how they were going to distinguish themselves from their rival tea shop. As Marco returned to stocking the shelves, he thought about Jean and Sawney’s Kettle. In a way, he had to acknowledge the logic behind Levi’s speech. Two stores with such similar specialization in the same mall—there was no way for them to make as much as they could without the other around. It seemed almost guaranteed that one would drive the other out of business.

            Marco shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts so that he could focus on shelving the tea and memorizing the various flavors while he was at it. He really did need the money and he was sure the other employees (largely students) needed it as well. _I can’t let them down_ , he thought, renewed determination pushing him along as the last shift before Stohess Leave’s grand opening. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that's all for now. Things will start picking up more in the next one but for now I'd say the stage has been set and is ready to go for the rest of this fic. 
> 
> As always, any feedback is greatly appreciated!


	3. Black Dragon Pearls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shots fired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everybody who's left kudos and comments! :D I'm really enjoying writing this fic. If you'd like to hear about another fanfic I'll be starting or some other news it's in the end notes.

“Hey, Ymir,” said Jean, leaning against the doorframe to his roommate’s bedroom, “did you check your email?”

            “Not yet,” she said, a piece of beef jerky sticking out of her mouth, “why?”

            “Message from Hanji,” he scratched behind his head, “Stohess Leaves just opened up and Hanji’s got a plan to stay in business.”

            Ymir sighed and wheeled around in her chair to face her laptop. Fast typing ensued, and Jean waited patiently as the freckled woman quickly opened her email and clicked the one from their manager. She sighed before she began reading.

            “‘Dear Valued Employed People,’ heh, I love Hanji,” Ymir leaned back and continued, “So basically… She wants us to be on our very best behavior… best customer service possible… and… We’re bringing out the bigger outdoor sample station? And setting up more inside…”

            “But only the cheaper teas,” Jean concluded, “use more free samples to draw customers in but only give away the cheaper ones so that we can pull off all these stations without exceeding what we can afford.”

            “That makes sense,” said Ymir, reading through the rest of the email silently, “looks solid so far. So when it’s you, me, Eren tomorrow, one of us is going to stay outside at all times. And another will be in charge of the sample stations inside.”

            “Right,” said Jean. He stayed in Ymir’s room for a while after that. The two of them talked about the store as well as how much they needed their jobs. Ymir had dropped out of college the previous year and was working full time; she was determined to stay on campus as long as Christa was here. The freckled woman split her work days between Sawney’s Kettle and a Chipotle. Jean was a full time student but now that he was putting himself through college his paycheck had become all the more vital. Besides that, the two of them had grown fond of Hanji in the time they’d been working for her; that store had become Hanji’s life and Jean and Ymir couldn’t imagine letting her down now.

***

The next day found Jean, Ymir, and Eren doing their best to follow through with Hanji’s orders. It wasn’t often that the three of them ended up on a shift together, but their familiarity with one another usually made those shifts go well.

At the beginning of their shift they had immediately set about bringing the larger outdoor sample station out; it didn’t get much use and was usually packed into the corner of the backroom. This station could fit four different flavors, which was usually considered excessive but they needed to maintain as much business as possible given the circumstances. A brief debate had ensued over which flavors to include, but the group had eventually settled on a wide array of cheap but popular options. Ymir had picked out her favorite black tea, Eren had picked out the oolong he had bought for Mikasa and Armin, Jean had picked out a chai that had enough cinnamon in it to feel sufficiently “Fall-y,” and the three of them had picked out a very fruity white tea (essentially “hot fruit juice” but for whatever reason the fruity flavors were popular).

While Eren—clad in scarf, beanie, and jacket—set up outside, Jean busied himself setting up multiple sample stations within the store, doing his best to walk the line between teas that were popular and cheap. Ymir took up residency behind the counter and made sure they were fully stocked before the store opened.

 As customers steadily flocked around Eren and the sample station, Jean and Ymir handled the customers that actually entered the store. Jean moved back and forth between the counter and the floor.

“Jean,” Ymir called over the heads of several customers.

“What’s up?” he turned back to find his roommate frowning.

“Tell Eren to draw more people over. Not enough are coming in,” she said. Jean nodded and headed outside, feeling the hair on his skin prickle as the cold autumn air hit him. Eren raised an eyebrow at him and he shrugged in response.

“You’ve gotta draw more customers over. Too many are just drinking the tea and leaving.”

“Yeah, that’s what a sample station _does_ , Jean. People want to drink free stuff. They don’t necessarily want to buy stuff.”

“Well, at least put forth a little more effort to get them inside, come on,” said Jean, pinching the bridge of his nose before returning to his stations indoors. They did see a slight increase in people entering the store after that. It wasn’t until a small elderly woman approached Jean about purchasing a tea pot that he noticed what was really going on.

“Young man.”

“Yeah, how can I help you?” He smiled down at her.

“I’m trying to buy a tea pot for my granddaughter, you see,” the old lady took a breath before continuing (Jean sighed internally. She was a talker; there were always a few per shift.), “she just moved into an apartment in college and her mother told me she needed a new tea pot while we were chatting on the phone last week. I thought it would make a good Christmas present for her.”

Jean nodded as she continued to ramble on about her granddaughter’s tastes and tea needs, doing his best to remain as patient as possible. _I really don’t need her life story._

“Well, if you’re looking for something sturdy and modern, we have a few affordable selections that you could consider,” he said, leading her to a shelf holding some of their tea pots.

“But her favorite color is green!”

Jean resisted the urge to huff, “Well we don’t have much modern green tea pots to choose from,” he began, “but there is this brown one with a green design on it.”

It was one of their nicer ones, and he hoped she wouldn’t balk at the price. Still, he led her over to the front window where it was on display amongst other products. While the old lady examined the brown and green tea pot, Jean glanced through the window. That was when he noticed a young woman out there talking to a few people. He narrowed his eyes, wondering if he was being paranoid or not. _I could have sworn I saw her out there talking to people earlier. What the hell?_

“This one does seem quite nice.”

Jean jerked his attention back to the customer, “I’m glad we found something.”

“Yes, I think this will do nicely for her! This should make a good Christmas present.”

Apathetic as Jean tried to act, he couldn’t help but smile sincerely at how cute this old lady was, holding the tea pot and looking so pleased with herself because she had found a Christmas present for her granddaughter. He grabbed one of the tea pots still in its box and ushered her to the counter where Ymir was smiling as well. Tea pots were a good sale.

“You know,” the old lady began talking again just as Jean was about to leave her with Ymir, “that new tea shop that opened up at the other end of the mall doesn’t even have tea pots.”

“You don’t say,” said Jean, adding to Ymir, “Ymir, make sure that tea pot is securely wrapped up.”

She smirked at him, the same teasing smirk she often gave him whenever he accidentally let slip his soft side that worried over everything, “Sure thing.”

Jean glanced over his shoulder at the front window and narrowed his eyes. The young woman was still out there except she was talking to other people now. He headed outside and sidled over to Eren inconspicuously.

“Hey, Eren,” he leaned down.

“I’m glad you liked it,” Eren said to a customer before turning his attention to Jean, “what is it?”

“You see that girl over there?” he jerked his head in her direction, “With the light brown hair?”

“Yeah,” said Eren, already frowning as he noticed the way she was talking to a small group of friends.

“How long has she been out here?”

“Um…” Eren frowned and thought this over, “Sorry, man, I really can’t say. The free samples, I just-”

“Yeah, I get it. It’s cool,” Jean shrugged off Eren’s apologies. It was a fair excuse; the sample station was getting a lot of traction and Eren was probably dealing with a non-stop stream of people. Jean put his hand over his mouth while he considered things. Eren watched him out of the corner of his eye while continuing to hand out free tea.

 _If I’m wrong, this could go badly. Better make sure before I do anything_. Jean clapped Eren on the shoulder before ducking back into the store, “I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry about it.”

Ymir looked at him curiously as he walked straight into the backroom. He pulled a jacket on and headed back out, stopping by the counter to mutter to Ymir quietly. He quickly explained his hunch and Ymir’s eyes widened before narrowing with anger.

He looked at her, “Can you handle things in here for a while?”

“Yeah, I’ll manage,” she said, adding grimly, “Take care of it, Jean.”

“Got it.”

He made sure his jacket was zipped up all the way, covering his Sawney’s Kettle t-shirt. Once he was outside, he made his way over to the young woman’s spot near the store, taking care not to attract attention to himself. He pulled out his phone and tried to look distracted as he slowly came to a stop in her vicinity.

“Yeah, that’s right. It’s a much simpler layout too!”

“How so?” one of the random guys in the group asked her.

“Well, there’s so much reliance on the workers at Sawney’s Kettle. You _have_ to ask them for help so that they can put your order together for you. It’s easy for them to make the process more confusing than it has to be, and before you know it you’re paying for tea you didn’t realize the price of. At Stohess, all the tea is ready to go so you get to pick it out and buy it yourself. There’s no way to get confused about the price.”

“That does make a lot more sense.”

“Yeah,” she tapped her lip thoughtfully as if thinking something over but Jean called _bullshit_ and grit his teeth, “I remember the only time I actually bought tea at Sawney’s. I didn’t even realize how much it cost until they had it in a bag for me, and then I felt so guilty that I bought it anyways!” She laughed sheepishly and the group of friends thanked her for the head’s up before beginning to walk away. Having heard enough, Jean growled and dropped all pretense of being another distracted passerby; he unzipped his jacket and marched straight over to her.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he snarled. The young lady looked alarmed for a moment but then had the decency to look moderately ashamed of herself.

“I, uh-”

“Do you work for Stohess?” he demanded.

She avoided his gaze, “I don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“Bullshit,” he spat, a little surprised at how genuinely angry he was. He thought of Hanji, and realized that in his time at Sawney’s he had only ever seen her sad once. A large order of tea had failed to come in; Hanji had been the one who’d messed up the paperwork. It had meant a big dent in their business for a solid week and Jean could still distinctly remember the apologetic way Hanji had dragged herself through her shifts. And the way she had carried on second guessing herself as a manager at every turn until the whole thing blew over.

His face crinkling in anger, Jean tugged the young lady’s arm, “Come on, we’re gonna have a word with your manager.”

When she stayed put and started protesting, Jean actually pulled her along, “I’m not taking no for an answer. Let’s go.”

She huffed and grudgingly followed him; there really wasn’t any point in hiding it after all. Jean kept a close eye on her as they made their way towards the south end of the mall.

“That was really big of you, you know,” he grumbled sarcastically.

She blew out a puff of air, “All’s fair in tea and war.”

He almost chuckled at the joke but was far too incensed for that. _That was such a cheap move._ As the store came into view, Jean squared his shoulders; he was sending a message here and now that Sawney’s Kettle wasn’t about to let tricks like this slide.    

***

            “I’ll be with you in a moment, Ma’am! Sorry for the wait, Sir! Let’s see, that’ll be…”

            And so it went at Stohess Leaves. Marco hadn’t been working for the grand opening of the store but it had only been one day since and they were still getting a lot of business. It didn’t help that it was the weekend. _At least I’ve got other people working with me,_ he thought to himself. Levi had planned to have the store’s first few weekends of shifts well-staffed; Gunther was working the other cash register in the island with Marco, and Eld and Levi were working the floors and maintaining the sample stations that were set up all over the store.

            “There you go, Miss. So, Marco,” said Gunther, “where’re you living? Close to the mall?”

            “Uuuh…” Marco hesitated while ringing up another customer on the register, “Actually, I’m still in the dorms this year. I just transferred to Trost and you have to spend a year in the dorms. Thanks for stopping by Stohess, Sir!”

            There was a pause while Gunther put a customer’s tea in a bag and began ringing up the next person’s purchases, “Oh, okay,” another pause, “that’s cool then.”

            “Y-yeah,” said Marco, fumbling the tea packages he was trying to bag, “What about you?”

            “My apartment’s across the street from the mall. Across from the taco place.”

            “Oh, that’s convenient!”

            “Yeah,” he grinned and returned his attention to the line of customers. Marco smiled and did the same. Customer service came quite naturally to him; he was already polite by default and was generally in a good mood anyways. He’d been working part time jobs long enough to appreciate how much of a difference that made.

            Marco’s thoughts were interrupted when the front door of the store opened again. He looked up to smile and greet the new customer only to pull up short when he saw Jean standing in the store’s entrance. And he looked _furious_.

            Marco’s eyes widened and he was about to ask Jean what was wrong when he realized Petra was standing beside him, looking more than a little frustrated herself. Gunther also looked over and raised his eyebrows, “What’s going on?”

            Jean made his way over to the counter, and practically snarled, “Where is your manager?”

            Marco blinked and was about to speak yet again when Levi stepped forward and spoke up.

            “What’s the problem?” he crossed his arms and addressed Jean directly.

            Jean jerked his thumb at Petra, “She’s one of your employees, yeah?”

            There was a brief pause but then Levi nodded. Marco had been silently watching this interaction intently until a nudge from Gunther snapped him out of it. Mumbling a quick apology, Marco turned his attention back to the customers waiting at the register, but he kept his ears tuned into the confrontation going on between Jean and Levi. He kept glancing back at them whenever he could spare the moment.

            “Okay,” said Jean, walking up to Levi and towering over him, “then what was she doing _standing outside of our store telling people to check out Stohess instead_?”

            If Petra hadn’t looked sheepish before, she certainly did now. But Levi’s arms remained folded and he stared Jean down. For a moment, Jean looked like he would falter under Levi’s stare but he managed to rally after a longer pause.

            “Is she being _paid_ right now? Is she currently _clocked in at this store_?”

            This time Levi did justify Jean’s demands with an answer, “No.”

            Jean rounded on Petra but she was quick to agree with Levi, “I’m not on a shift right now. I’m not being paid for this!”

            Turning back to Levi, Jean lowered his voice and ground out, “You try pulling shit like this again? We’ll press charges. Stay the hell away from our store.”

            “Then you get the hell out of my store, shitrag,” Levi didn’t miss a beat. A dangerous glint passed through Levi’s eyes and his voice was also a deadly quiet. Realizing that it was time to back down for now, Jean turned on his heel and stormed out of the store; he’d said all he’d needed to say anyways.

            Marco glanced around nervously; it seemed like Jean and Levi had kept their voices low enough that they hadn’t attracted too much unwanted attention but there were still plenty of customers looking in Levi’s direction curiously. Petra was looking at Levi nervously. The manager hadn’t moved from his spot yet and his arms were still folded.

            Eventually Petra broke the ice, “Levi, I’m _sorry_ , I _was_ being discreet but he just-”

            “It’s fine,” he said, and although the changes in his posture and expression were microscopic he still appeared to visibly soften somehow, “sorry I sent you over there.”

            A tiny smile graced her face and Petra nodded, “It’s okay. I was happy to help.”

            Tuning out of their conversation, Marco leaned over to Gunther and asked, “He’s not going to be sending all of us over there at random intervals, is he?”

            Gunther scrunched up his face and answered, “Naaah, I don’t think he’d ask just anyone to go over there, if you catch my drift.” he winked at Marco and the freckled man grinned in response; it was becoming abundantly obvious to everyone at Stohess that Petra was taken with Levi. Whether or not the manager realized was up for debate.

            “Besides,” Gunther carried on, “now that she got caught, I doubt he’d risk it again. It’s not worth it now that they’ll be on lookout for stuff like that.”

            “That’s good,” said Marco. He really wasn’t comfortable with the idea of actively trying to ruin Sawney’s Kettle, although he understood that in working for Stohess he was sort of inadvertently trying to do that.

            It wasn’t long until Petra went home after chatting with Levi. Soon after, there was a lull in customers. Eld was taking the opportunity to wipe down some counters. When he got to the island, he started snickering a little, and Marco and Gunther both raised their eyebrows at him.

            “What’s up?” asked Gunther.

            “That guy who came in here from Sawney’s Kettle earlier,” he paused to chuckle, “he’s in a local band. My girlfriend really likes them and drags me to their shows sometimes.”

            “What band?” asked Marco; he didn’t realize how interested he looked.

            “It’s called The Scouting Legion,” at this, Eld threw back his head and started laughing harder, “what’s she gonna say when I tell her he’s working at the rival store? She thinks he’s so hot too. She might dump me, oh my god.”

            Marco and Gunther genuinely didn’t know how to react to this so they just watched silently while this played out.

            Eventually Gunther cracked a small smile and thumped Eld on the back, “Get back to work. We need to drive your girlfriend’s future boyfriend out of business.”

            Eld snorted, “My pleasure.”

            “He- he’s not serious, right? About getting dumped?”

            “Maybe, who knows,” Gunther took one look at Marco’s expression and burst out laughing, “No, he’s not. Eld’s been dating her for a long time now; it’s no big deal, I promise.”

            “Oh, okay,” Marco scratched the back of his neck before returning to work. _Grad students get weird_. The rest of the shift was uneventful; although, Marco couldn’t help but attribute that to Jean’s bursting into the store halfway through the shift. Nothing could really follow that up.

            Eventually, Marco’s shift ended and he put on his suede jacket and a scarf his mom bought him before leaving the store. Once outside, he hesitated before turning back to campus. After staying up late with his friends, waking up for this shift had been rough and he still had a lesson plan to write tonight as well as a couple of other miscellaneous assignments. And he knew there was a Starbucks in the mall.

            Marco made a quick stop at a directory to make sure he knew where he was going and walked further into the mall. Unsurprisingly, Starbucks was crowded but Marco wasn’t really in a huge hurry anyways. He mostly needed some downtime to wake himself up and rest. While dwelling on the work he had left to do that night, Marco let his eyes roam the store…

            Until they landed on a certain band member with the two toned hair sitting by himself in a booth.

            Marco glanced around the store. None of the other workers from Stohess were in the vicinity. _This shouldn’t really be that big a deal, right?_ That in mind, Marco decided to go sit by Jean. Once he had ordered and gotten his coffee, he made his way to the back of the store. _What’s the worst thing that can happen anyways? Jean gets mad and throws his coffee in my face? Levi finds out and fires me? Actually those both sound pretty bad… Oh well, too late now_.

            “Hey, Jean!”

            Jean’s head jerked up from his phone, he looked bewildered but his lips seemed to quirk into a smile for a moment, “Marco?” confusion and irritation graced his features, “What- what are you doing?”

            Marco laughed, “Will you throw coffee at me if I sit down with you?”

            Jean flushed and actually looked a little insulted that Marco would anticipate such violence, “No! Don’t be ridiculous, just sit down, damnit.”

            Fighting back the urge to laugh more, Marco grinned and complied. Jean’s ego seemed to bruise easily. He would have to keep that in mind.

Taking the first tentative sip of his coffee, Marco watched Jean fidget with his own coffee. He had some papers spread out on the table before him, some of which were lined like music paper. There was also a sheet that looked like lyrics.

            Marco decided to break the ice, “I’m sorry about today.”

            Jean arched an eyebrow and scoffed, “Don’t apologize for them. They can apologize themselves or they can shove it up their asses but it shouldn’t come from you.”

            Marco frowned, “Petra’s actually a really nice person. And I think Levi just got a little carried away.”

            “A _little_?” Jean rolled his eyes, “Look, you obviously didn’t have anything to do with it but I really don’t want to hear it so drop it. It’s not your job to apologize for them or make excuses for them.”

            “Yeah, okay,” Marco looked down. He felt… _reprimanded_ … and awkward. So he took another sip of coffee and tried to change the subject. His eyes fell on Jean’s left arm and the large mass of a tattoo that covered it. Jean’s ears were pierced in several places. _His hair is so weird_ , thought Marco while also taking note of what a sharp profile Jean had—sharp jawline, sharp nose, sharp eyes.

            Surprisingly, Jean was the one who broke the silence, “Don’t you have anything to work on?” He gestured at the papers scattered before him and Marco realized it was probably a little awkward to be just sitting and watching Jean work.

            “Er, no, that is,” he unzipped his jacket for something to do, “not with me. I have a lot of work to do tonight but needed some time to wind down after that shift. So I thought I’d stop for some coffee.”

            “Oh, okay,” Jean looked back down at his papers and seemed to think this over. He heaved a tired sigh before beginning to pack his stuff up.

            “Ah! You don’t have to stop working just because I’m here!”

            “It’s fine,” Jean shrugged, “Don’t really feel like working either.”

            Marco sat back and smiled, “Well, if you’re sure.”

            Jean flushed a little and mumbled, “I said it, didn’t I?”

            Marco couldn’t help but laugh at that; Jean was like an irritable child when he pouted like that. He also looked like he really didn’t know how to handle Marco’s laughing, and fumbled a couple of pages in his confusion.

            “What were you working on anyways?”

            “Just some music,” said Jean.

It looked like he was about to say more but Marco cut him off eagerly, “You’re in a band right? One of the co-workers, well, his girlfriend is a big fan.”

Jean smirked at that, “I might know her then. We’re only local after all. It’s nothing big.”

“Isn’t it hard, juggling that with school and work?”

“I guess,” Jean scratched his nose absentmindedly, “I don’t sleep much anyways. Sleep deprivation fuels me. Besides, I’m a music major so the band actually helps with my studies. And I got us registered with the University’s music program so our performances can count for some of my requirements.”

“Oh, okay,” Marco smiled, “that’s cool.”

“Yeah.”

“What about the other members?”

“I do most of the music composition and adjusting, so it’s the biggest time commitment for me. At most, they look over lyrics or something. Other than that, rehearsal and performances are all they have to worry about.”

“Where do you guys rehearse?”

Jean squirmed; it was weird having someone take such an interest in his life, especially Marco— _a cute boy_. Ymir’s taunting voice came to mind, pointing out how long it had been since Jean had dated anybody and he squirmed some more.

“Our keyboardist, Bert, lives in a house with some of his friends,” he explained, “we soundproofed their living room as much as we could and practice there.”

“Cool!” Marco grinned.

Looking pleased and embarrassed from all Marco’s enthusiasm (he tried to shrug it off, he really did), Jean said, “You should come to our show next weekend. We’re playing at Club 3DMG on Friday.”

Marco blinked, a little thrown by the invitation. He hadn’t been to that club yet nor any concerts at Trost. It wasn’t really his scene. But then again, he, Mina and Thomas had fun on the nights they went out, introducing Marco to their other friends and whatnot. He smiled, “I’d love to. I’ll see if I can get my friends to go.”

“Cool,” said Jean, trying not to look too enthusiastic about this. He untied his scarf and took another gulp of coffee. Marco was about to return to his own coffee but paused when he noticed how far Jean had tipped his head back to drink, the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed…  Marco felt his face heat up and quickly drank more of his own coffee. _Don’t go there, Marco_.

“So, uh,” Marco coughed and continued, “your arm… Did it hurt?”

“What? This?” Jean glanced down at his sleeve tattoo, “Well… Yeah. But this was my third tattoo so I kind of knew what to expect and it’s not like they did the whole sleeve at once.”

Marco blinked, “Where are your other tattoos?”

“Everyone in The Scouting Legion got our band’s logo tattooed to the top right corner of their back last year,” said Jean, “but I got my first tattoo in high school. It’s on my ankle,” he grinned wickedly, “I had to sneak out of my house at night to get it.”

 _An ankle tattoo?_ Marco couldn’t help but think that was a typically girly place for one. _But then again_ , he reminded himself, _I’m not well versed in the politics of tattoos_.

“It looks nice,” said Marco, “who did the design?”

“Bert,” Jean answered, “he designed our band logo too.”

Marco laughed, “So in a way he’s left two marks on your body?”

Jean snorted into his coffee, “I should tell it to him that way. Watch him sweat.”

They stayed in Starbucks talking like that for an hour. Marco learned more about Jean’s band: the music they played, the songs they covered, and the band members. Being registered with the University meant that sometimes they got hired for more formal gigs, and they had to be paid more because of the University’s affiliation with them. After learning about the band, Marco started talking about his own goals; it ended up turning into a semi-rant about Trost’s education department and its many shortcomings. Jean was a surprisingly sympathetic listener, though his advice-giving abilities were lacking. Marco didn’t really mind though. Moreover, Marco learned that Jean was very easily distracted, quick to irritation, and prone to overreacting. Again, he found he really didn’t mind.

They ended up exchanging numbers right before they left, Marco promising that he would contact Jean at the show so they could meet up there once his band’s set was done.

***

             Jean opened to door to his apartment to be greeted by Pastor Nick’s hissing fit. He made a mental note to Google how long cockroaches could live in jars later and went to shower.

            Music filled the bathroom and mingled with the sound of water rushing from the showerhead. Jean didn’t like going without music and almost always brought his speakers into the bathroom while he showered. Since Ymir was out to dinner with Christa, he didn’t need to worry about volume either.

            As Walk the Moon played, Jean wondered if Marco was single. Then he wondered if he should care so much this early on. Then he wondered if Hanji would disown him forever if she found out he was conversing with the enemy. Or if he _dated_ the enemy.

            _Shut up,_ he thought, shaking his head. Wet hair slapped his forehead and pricked at his eyes a little. _Ymir’s right. I need to get out more._ Marco was a good looking guy and surprisingly easy to get along with. That was all it was. He dragged a hand down his face and tried to quell the excited flutter that passed through him when he thought of Marco seeing him in concert next week.

***

            Marco had texted Mina and Thomas shortly after leaving Starbucks. Both of them seemed open to spending the night out at 3DMG on Friday night.

            He had just settled in at his desk in his dorm room when he got a call from home.

            “Hello?”

            “Marco!”

            “Hey, Mom,” he leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. He loved his family really but there was still so much to do before bed and a phone call was really the last thing he needed.

            “How’s it going at school?” she asked. Marco smiled fondly. He knew it was hard for her to adjust to him being gone since he had stayed local for two years after high school.

            “It’s good, busy, heheh… I’ve got a lot of work to take care of.”

            “Awww, honey,” she cooed, “here, say hi to your brother and sister!”

            “Mom, I- hi Danny.”

            Behind him he could hear his roommate chuckle. This was how calls from home usually went with Marco. Lots of doting and friendliness while the phone got passed around from parent to sibling to sibling to parent. After making small talk with the rest of his family the phone found its way back to Marco’s mom.

            “You know what Lauren said the other day?”

            “What, Mom?” Marco smiled. His younger sister was in high school and frequently ran her mouth these days.

            “She was asking if most people meet their future spouse in college,” his mom giggled, “a couple of relatives have asked too actually. About your dating life that is. So, Marco, met any cute girls in college yet?”

            “Mom!” Marco felt his face turn red. But when he opened his mouth again, he faltered. Jean, awkward and fumbling and sitting across the booth from him, popped into his mind’s eye. _Stop it, Marco_.

            “What, Marco? I’m just asking,” his mom laughed, “I think it’s funny that your sister’s thinking about these things. _I think she has a crush on this guy in her algebra_ -”

            “ _Mom!_ ” Lauren’s voice cut through their mother’s stage whisper and Marco couldn’t help but laugh.

            “Oops! Gotta go, honey! We’ll call you later in the week!”

            “Okay, Mom, bye.”

            “Bye, sweetie!”

            He hung up the phone and shook his head. His lesson plan was open on his laptop, still woefully unwritten. Marco blinked at the screen and tried to will himself to get back to work. His moms words and questions about girlfriends echoed in his head and he tried in vain to avoid reflecting on the small handful of relationships he had in high school. When that didn’t work he tried in vain to avoid reflecting on the all-consuming lack of interest he’d had in any of his previous girlfriends. They were nice, he got along with him. Getting along with them had never been the problem though.

            He bit his lip and tried not to think about the real issue at hand.

            It took more willpower than Marco was willing to admit to turn his attention back to his schoolwork.

***

The next Monday found Hanji heading over to Sawney’s Kettle to open the store for the day. She waved to the manager of the gift shop across from her store and unlocked the front door, locking it behind her and heading to the back room.

            It was always nice to see the store properly cleaned in the morning. Made opening the store much simpler. She smiled and clocked in before unlocking the backroom as well. Once inside, she turned to the bulletin board out of habit. She wasn’t expecting to find a new note pinned to the board. Hanji frowned, took the letter down, and unfolded it. Jean had left it after his shift. Hanji’s eyes grew wider as she read.

            _Hanji,_

_During the shift, I noticed this girl standing outside the store. She was there for most of the shift talking to people. When I went to check it out I heard her talking up Stohess and putting our store down. Ymir, Eren and I don’t know how long she was out there but we think most of the shift. I dragged her to Stohess with me and had a talk with the manager. He admitted she is an employee there. But they said she wasn’t being paid for her time out there. I don’t really know if that means we can do anything about it but obviously you need to know what Stohess is up to._

_Their manager seems like a total prick._

_Glad to have you as my boss_

_-Jean_

Hanji crumpled up the letter furiously. That slightly manic look returned to her eyes and she got ready to draft an email to her employees. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up being way longer than I thought it would be. I haven't had much opportunity to edit it so I will probably go over it and make some small changes over the next few days. 
> 
> Also I thought it was worth pointing out that I got the idea for The Scouting Legion band from this fan art.  
> http://johannathemad.tumblr.com/post/64846167811/ugly-brotp-drawings-x
> 
> I love Johanna's art so much! :'D 
> 
> Also, in case any of you are interested, I have a tumblr dedicated to my fanfiction now. There isn't much on that blog yet (especially since I've only started this fanfic so far) but I'll mostly be using it to keep myself motivated and organized. You can find it here: 
> 
> http://joycelop.tumblr.com/
> 
> I'm really excited about the reception this fic has gotten so far. :D That said, I'm 85% sure that I'm going to work on the first chapter for another fic before I get to chapter four of TGTW. Said other fic is a pretty even mix of JeanMarco and YmirChrista and is heavily based off of Shakespeare's Twelfth Night. Keep an eye out for it if you're interested~


	4. Fireside Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which some things happen and then we have a concert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YO GUYS SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. The semester started and quickly proceeded to kick my ass into the realm of non-existence but I'm FINALLY back on track with TGTW so here we go. 
> 
> Music in this chapter include: 
> 
> Simple and Clean (cover) by Gates of Ivory (I'm linking you to a genderbent version my friend Luis made for me!)  
> http://joycelop.tumblr.com/post/73129013431/loonyluis-gates-of-ivory-genderbend-simple
> 
> Be Still My Heart by the Postal Service  
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0zHN9IPWWhw
> 
> Best Day of My Life by American Authors  
> http://coffeeshoppop.tumblr.com/post/73418420295/paynefulwanderlust-best-day-of-my-life
> 
> Anna Sun by Walk the Moon  
> http://coffeeshoppop.tumblr.com/post/48834037440/fiddickodair-23-365-anna-sun-walk-the
> 
>  
> 
> I Will Wait by Mumford & Sons  
> http://coffeeshoppop.tumblr.com/post/75345851256/iamhadriel-i-will-wait-mumford-sons
> 
> Mr. Brightside by The Killers  
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SrkeWsQZNyU
> 
> Enjoy guys~

            Tuesday night life carried on as per usual at Reiner, Bert, and Annie’s house. Annie was at the gym punching things or whatever it was the school’s martial artists did for practice. Reiner was eating dinner and working on homework in the kitchen. Meanwhile, Bert was rehearsing in the living room with The Scouting Legion but it wasn’t long until the practice devolved into yelling.    

            “Kirchstein, get your head out of your ass and sing it right!”

            “I would if Ymir’s drumming was staying on tempo! It’s throwing me off.”

            “Uh, guys…”

            “Excuses, excuses! You’re just distracted ‘cause you finally got yourself a boyfriend.”

            “Wait, _what_?” A loud twang on the guitar followed this question. Eren had been picking at some strings but now he turned his full attention to Jean, “You got a boyfriend?”

            “Guys, please…”

            Jean sneered at Ymir, “I do not. Ymir, shut your mouth!”

            She grinned catlike at everyone in the room, “He asked some boy to come to the show on Friday. You should have seen the sucker’s face when he was telling me about it. He was such a frigging _girl_!”

            “YMIR!” Jean roared while Eren laughed loudly.

            “Can we _please_ just…”

            “Oh, come on, _Jeannie_!” Ymir crowed, “Just admit that you like him. You already said he’s cute, right?”

            “That doesn’t mean I _like_ him, Ymir-”

            “Look at his _face_!” Eren howled with laughter as Jean went an even deeper shade of scarlet.

            “ _GUYS_!”

            Everyone in the room shut up and looked over to Bert. He was stooped over his keyboard and sweating, “Can we… stop fighting and practice?”

            The other three band members all exchanged looks before continuing to stare at their keyboardist.

            Ymir chuckled, “Sorry, Bert…”

            “What would we do without you, Bert?” asked Jean, slightly teasing tone to his voice.

            “You and Eren would have killed each other by now,” said Bert, a small smile quirking his lips. Eren laughed and nodded his agreement. He resumed picking at the strings on his guitar. Jean grinned and moved back to the mic (it wasn’t on but it was nice to have things set up more like a stage).

            Reiner walked through the room to grab some books on the coffee table and thumped Bert on the back, “Atta boy, Bert. You keep them in line.”

            Jean laughed lightly and straightened his guitar, “Okay, let’s try this one again. You know Armin was really psyched about us playing-”

            “Oh, like you weren’t _dying_ to cover this song too,” teased Eren.

            “Yeah, seriously, we all know about you and Armin and your video games. Don’t act like you’re not as much of a nerd as he is,” Ymir chimed in.

            “Okay, _okay_!” Jean put up his hands in mock surrender, “ _Fine_. I’m excited. Now let’s get back to practicing.”

            Bert started things off before anyone could countdown and went into the melody line. Ymir had to scramble to catch up but she managed and soon enough Jean and Eren had come in on guitar.

            _“You’re giving me too many things lately,_

_You’re all I need,_

_You smiled at me and said…”_

***

            _Mall Maria’s fairly quiet during school days,_ Marco mused as he continued wiping at the island counter in Stohess Leaves. Petra was kneeling by their shelves and stocking up some of the lower hanging teas. The two of them were working by themselves today. Since Mall Maria was located in a college town, its main hours of operation were after classes got out. During the day, they only really saw business from the adults who lived in the area, and the rare college student running some errands in between classes.

            Petra stood and wiped her forehead with the back of her arm. She smiled at Marco, “So how’re classes going?”

            Marco smiled and put the paper towel aside for a moment, “They’re good. I have a history exam later this week though—early Chinese history. That’s really the only class I’m struggling with to be honest.”

            “As long as it’s just the one,” she chirped and moved to switch out some cups for the one sample station they had going. Marco watched her work for a moment before a small frown formed on his face. Petra looked over and tilted her head at him, “What is it?”

            “Well,” he fiddle with the counter spray, “about the weekend… When you were at Sawney’s…”

            “Oh,” she looked down, “yeah, I feel bad about that… Levi and I crossed a line there.”

            “As long as you know that,” he said, mirroring her earlier line.

            She laughed and nodded. There was a brief pause, and then Petra spoke up again, “But you know, Marco, we do have to be proactive about it. If you want to keep your job, you have to commit to helping Stohess out.”

            “I know, I know,” he said, biting his lip uncomfortably, “but that doesn’t mean we need to resort to stuff that’s borderline illegal. I mean, if you were on payroll while you were out there they might have been able to label it slander or something.”

            “Yeah, we’re not going to try anything like that again,” she said.

            _Like that? Then what else do you have planned?_ Marco didn’t voice the question out loud though. He got the sense he really didn’t want to know. An uncomfortable silence passed for a while and the two kept cleaning silently. Eventually Marco was running out of things to do and had begun fidgeting with the displays. Petra was the one who broke the silence.

            “You know, Levi had a pretty rough life growing up.”

            “O-oh, he did?” Marco blinked rapidly. He didn’t know what to say; and he really wasn’t sure where she was going with this either.

            “Yeah… He doesn’t like talking about it. But he grew up in pretty bad conditions and he never got to go to college. I get the sense he was involved in some gang activity when he was a teenager or something.”

            Picturing Levi as a thug was kind of difficult given his stature. _But then again_ … Marco thought about that dangerous aura Levi had, the way he could intimidate people a foot taller than him somehow. _Maybe it’s not that farfetched_.

            “I don’t know,” Petra fiddled with the apron tied around her uniform, “I guess I just want to make sure he’s able to run this store, you know? I don’t want him to deal with more setbacks.”

            Marco stared at her for a moment and the faint blush on her face, “Yeah, I understand.”

            “Thanks, Marco,” she smiled.

            In a way, it felt like Marco had made some kind of silent agreement—like a promise to the store. When he had initially thought that he didn’t want to let his coworkers down, he hadn’t realized how heated the rivalry between the two tea shops would get. And when he had realized it that day Jean burst into their store, he’d started backing away from it. But now Petra was standing before him making a strong case for it. If one store had to go out of business, why couldn’t it be Sawney’s Kettle? After all, what did Marco expect to happen if Stohess employees just sat on their hands and let things play out? Petra and Levi may have crossed a line the first round, but there were other ways to try to get the edge on Sawney’s Kettle while operating within the rules.

            _I hope you know what you’re getting into, Marco…_

***

            “That was really nice, Jean.”

            “Thanks,” he said, leaning back on the piano bench, “you think it’ll be fine for the examinations?”

            “I think you’ll be fine,” said Rico, “just work on staying on time and don’t miss the notes on those runs.”

            “Right,” he said, nervously plucking at a couple of piano keys, “I’ll keep working on it.”

            She patted him on the shoulder, “You’re a fair piano player, Jean. It’ll be fine.”

            He grinned, “Thanks. Again.”

            Rico was one of the graduate students in the music program and had taken Jean under her wing early on in his sophomore year. He still paid her for the private piano lessons of course, but as a friend she cut him a nice deal. He also sincerely enjoyed the small talk they sometimes fell into during sessions. And they made a point of seeing each other’s performances when possible.

            Jean glanced down at the ring on Rico’s finger, “So how’s the wedding planning going?”

            “Good,” she said, tucking some hair behind her ear and adjusting her glasses, “actually I wanted to talk to you about that.”

            “If this is about bringing a date to your wedding, I can tell you that my roommate already rags on me about my lack of dating life enough so…”

            Rico started laughing, “It’s not that, I promise. I was going to ask if your band wanted the gig.”

            Jean blinked, “You… want us to play your wedding? Seriously?”

            “Don’t take that tone. I’ve seen you guys perform at formal events.”

            “Well yeah, but…” he scratched his nose, “so does this mean I’m off the guest list?”

            They both laughed at that, “Is that a yes?”

            “Of course. I’ll check with the band to make sure it’s alright if we give you guys a discount.

            Rico frowned, “You don’t have to do that. You’re still paying your way through college, right?”

            “Well, yeah…”

            “I wouldn’t feel right taking money from you, Jean.”

            He fidgeted in his seat, “Well, you’re a grad student in music of all things. Couldn’t I say the same to you?”

            She smirked, “Come on, Jean, it’s different with you. Listen, I mean it, you don’t need to cut me slack. Besides it’s not like I don’t know what your band’s going rate is. I’ll be saving money anyways.”

            Jean punched her shoulder, “You calling us cheap?”

            “Compared to other wedding bands? Hell yes, student labor is _always_ cheap.”

            Jean smiled and played a couple of lines on the piano while Rico started packing up some sheet music. She slid him a small sheet of paper.

            “Just a couple of songs that are a requirement for the wedding,” she explained, “Don’t worry. I think these will be easy to adapt to your style. And you guys already have a lot of cover music ready to go, right?”

            “Yeah,” said Jean, running a hand through his hair as he looked over the list, “I mean, like you said, it’s not like we’ve never done formal events and we did that one wedding too. We have music that’s mild enough. Mostly.”

            Rico laughed, “Well you know me. I don’t mind a little roughness to it. It doesn’t all have to be dance music. I mean there will be kids at the wedding but who cares about them?”

            He snorted, “Okay, well I’m sure it won’t be a problem then. You’ve seen us perform enough times anyways. You know what you’re getting into.”

            “That I do. Now, Jean, before we end this session,” she pointed down at the piano, “let’s hear those runs again.”

***

            Friday came and the day of the concert turned out to be a busy one. Jean blew out a puff of air as he and Ymir both entered their apartment. He shrugged off his jacket and toed off his shoes while his roommate did the same behind him. Both of their jackets ended up in a pile on the couch. Jean made his way to the kitchen.

            “I’ve never seen her that angry,” said Jean, running a hand through his hair as he poured himself a cup of strong iced tea from the fridge. The two of them had just come from an employee meeting at Sawney’s Kettle that Hanji had set up in order to inform all the employees in person about the content of Jean’s note as well as going over her plans to stay in business. Lines were being drawn and Hanji was certainly not willing to give an inch to Stohess.

            “Give me some of that too,” said Ymir, gesturing briefly to the tea he had in his hand, “I need the pick me up before the show. And yeah, Hanji was scary tonight, man.”

            “I can’t blame her after what happened during our shift this week,” said Jean before passing Ymir her tea.

The freckled woman took a gulp before answering, “Yeah…”

They remained standing while they downed their tea. Jean wondered if inviting Marco to the concert was a bad idea. He doubted any of his friends would recognize Marco as a Stohess employee unless the guy was actually dumb enough to wear any part of his uniform to a concert. But he also couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d crossed some sort of line. Especially after Hanji’s tirade that day. _A part time job shouldn’t dictate that much of my social life, right?_ He rationalized internally while downing more caffeine packed tea. Still, despite his best efforts, he couldn’t help that twinge of guilt when he thought of Hanji, and even Eren and Ymir.

He jumped when Ymir’s hand clapped him on the back.

            “Come on, Jeannie, time for you to get pretty. You’re our center stage you know. Our little star.”

            Shaken from his thoughts, he shoved her away and flipped her off before making his way to his room. Ymir just chuckled and followed suit.

            “So what _are_ you wearing, princess?”

            “Nothing flashy. Maybe some flannel… Unless Eren’s wearing flannel. Wait! I should call him.”

            Ymir snorted from her room, “You two are morons. What about Bert?”

            “Nah, he doesn’t have the same style as Eren and I,” said Jean, while punching Eren’s number on his phone. It rang twice before Eren picked up.

            “What’s up?”

            “Hey, what’re you planning on wearing tonight?”

            Ymir was cackling from the other room but neither Eren nor Jean seemed fazed. This was fairly standard pre-concert conversation for them.

            “Um, well I’m already dressed. Just hanging out with Armin and Mikasa right now.”

            “Okay, so what are you wearing?”

            “Red flannel. Sleeves rolled up. T-shirt underneath, the black and white with the bird or whatever. And I’m gonna keep my beanie on for now. Also sneakers. Nothing big really.”

            Jean pursed his lips while staring at his closet, “Alright, I’ll see you later.”

            “Later.”

            Jean turned back to his closet only to be interrupted by Ymir barging into his room. She was wearing combat boots, skinny jeans, and an olive green tank top with a leather jacket over it.

            “Oi, knock first, you bitch. I could have been naked-”

            She rolled her eyes, “Like I give a damn. Hurry up. I want to head to 3DMG.”

            Jean pushed her out of the room before diving into his closet. Ymir continued standing on the other side of his door and enjoying her favorite pastime—heckling Jean and calling him girl names. It was a short wait though. Jean knew how angry Ymir got when seriously being kept waiting.

            “A little bit dramatic after all, huh?” she asked, looking his outfit over when he finally emerged. Jean was wearing a black jacket, unzipped to reveal a grey t-shirt that was shredded a little on top. Dark red desert shoes stood out beneath his jeans. He had his usual piercings in his ears—just black pinpricks against his skin.

            “It’s not too much, right?” he asked, fiddling with the zipper.

            “Nah,” Ymir waved away his concerns, “you look hot. Now let’s go.”

            He nodded and followed the drummer to the front of their apartment. He stooped to pick up his guitar case while Ymir slung a backpack over her shoulder that had a couple pairs of drumsticks in it. Once they were loaded up with the necessary belongings, they left their apartment and hopped on a bus to Club 3DMG.

***

            “So there isn’t much of a dress code, right?” asked Marco, fiddling with his t shirt, “I mean, just a t-shirt is fine.”

            “You’re a guy and it’s a club,” said Mina, “t-shirt and jeans is fine.”

            “Just making sure,” he mumbled. Mina ruffled his hair, “Hey! Cut it out!”

            She stuck her tongue out teasingly, “You’re so worried you don’t look right for a club, I figured I’d help you achieve that tousled look.”

            Marco huffed and tried not to look irritated as they continued making their way to a food truck that served burritos. It was supposed to be close to Club 3DMG so the group was planning on grabbing dinner there and hanging out before heading to the concert. Thomas was meeting them at the stand since his apartment was on the other end of campus. Mina rounded the corner and pointed out the truck, “You haven’t had these yet, right? They’re pretty great.”

            “No I haven’t,” said Marco as they approached the vehicle. There was a short line outside the food truck; apparently they weren’t the only ones with this idea. Luckily, Marco spotted Thomas standing in line and waving them over.

            “I got here a little early,” the blonde explained as they joined him in the queue. 

            “Nice, saves us time,” said Mina. Marco merely hmmed in agreement; he was much more preoccupied with examining the menu and trying to make up his mind.

            “So, Marco, how’d you say you heard about this concert again?” asked Thomas as they grew closer to the food truck.

            “The singer works in the mall,” he said, still distracted, “and one of my coworkers goes to their shows a lot because of his girlfriend.”

            Mina peered up at him curiously, “You didn’t mention the singer before.”

            “Oh!” Marco blinked, snapping his attention away from the menu on the side of the truck, “Must have slipped my mind.” He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.

            “What’s his name?”

            “Er, Jean.”

            Thomas scrunched up his face, “Is he French?”

            “I don’t know, never got an answer on that one.”

            “Hm, okay,” Mina shrugged happily and went up to order. In the end, Marco ended up getting the same thing as her—a taco plate with three small tacos, the truck’s three most popular flavors.

Armed with their food, the two of them made their way over to a bench and hunched over their plates. They were shortly joined by Thomas, carrying a fairly large burrito. They ate quickly while passing a water bottle between the three of them.

Marco fell into thought while eating. Recent events certainly made it seem that a friendship with Jean wasn’t something his new job would smile upon. But certainly Eld would still be going to concerts with his girlfriend, right? _I’m not breaking any unspoken rules here am I?_ he asked himself. Unable to give himself a satisfactory answer, he chose to strike up conversation.

“I wonder how crowded it’ll be,” Marco mused between bites.

“It’s not that big given how many students usually go,” said Mina, “so it might be packed.”

 “It’s usually pretty full on Friday nights,” said Thomas, “but it’s only local bands playing tonight so I don’t think it’ll be awful.”

            “Okay,” said Marco, picking up one of the tacos and taking some more bites from that one. He was trying to work his way through all three at an even pace so he could enjoy them equally. Beside him, Mina had gone ahead and eaten the first two already. She rolled her eyes at him and the three continued making small talk while finishing their food. A line was starting to form around Club 3DMG so they picked up the pace and joined the queue.

***

            “Hey, how much longer before they start letting people in?”

            Eren and Jean glanced up from their guitar fiddling and turned towards Ymir. The freckled woman was sitting on the floor and leaning against the wall, her arm slung around her girlfriend. Christa was snuggled up to Ymir’s side, wearing a Scouting Legion t-shirt, a pink tulle skirt, thigh high socks, and boots. ( _“Thigh highs”_ Ymir had whispered lecherously in Jean’s ear when Christa first appeared backstage to hang out with them before the show. He’d made a mental note to try to fall asleep as soon as they got home from the concert or even camp out at someone else’s place.)

            “They’ll give us a head’s up once they open the doors same as always,” said Jean, “just chill. Go make out with your girlfriend in a backroom or something.”

            Eren snorted. Bert sweat. Ymir sneered at Jean. Christa looked enthusiastic about the suggestion. Jean just shook his head and continued fiddling with his guitar while the group waited.

Not long after, a girl with short hair dyed purple popped her head in and said, “We’re opening the doors now. You guys get ready!”

“Knock ‘em out, baby,” said Christa, swiftly pecking the drummer on the cheek. She jumped up and left the back stage area and they could just hear her say, “I hope Reiner and the others get here soon.”

Jean smiled. It was nice knowing that their friends made a point of showing up to almost all their concerts. Reiner, Annie, Mikasa, Armin and Christa were always a guarantee and Jean’s freshmen year roommate Connie and his buddy Sasha showed up a significant portion of the time. At least they’d never be playing for a completely empty room.

He hated to dwell on the fact that none of their friends came mainly for him. While they were all friends, there was no question that Annie and Reiner came especially for Bertholdt and the same could be said about Armin and Mikasa for Eren. Admittedly, Jean was probably closer to Sasha and Connie than the other band members but it wasn’t quite the same since those two really came for the group in general. None of them had a particularly strong attachment to Jean. Maybe Rico would show up for the show as well. Though, he reasoned, she had been really swamped lately.

            Ymir was seating herself behind the drums. Bert was testing out the volume on his keyboard. Eren joined Bert while Jean went up to test the microphone. From the other side of the curtains, they could hear people streaming in. Having tapped on the mic a few times, Jean made one last check of his guitar before jumping in with Eren and Bert’s warm up. The three of them were just fiddling around while Ymir improvised some drumming with them. The noise from the other side of the curtain was growing louder. One of the stage hands was standing by to raise the curtains, grinning and rocking his head in time with them a little. The purple haired girl returned and gave them the thumbs up to signal that the house was full enough to start the show at any time. Jean nodded back at her before exchanging a quick look with the rest of The Scouting Legion; they kicked into their opening song as the curtains pulled aside.

***

            The wait in the line was expectedly long although Thomas continuously reminded Marco that it really hadn’t been that bad all things considered. Club 3DMG had managed to move the crowd through the doors fairly quickly. By the time Marco and his friends had made it to the main floor, The Scouting Legion had already begun playing, though they were only on their first song. If anything, it seemed like they were playing the crowd in. The lights were a pleasant orangey hue and Jean’s voice was reverberating throughout the space. Some people were already swaying to the music since it was a rather tame song for now.

            _“And then I felt the scrapes from the slippery subway grate._

_Oh how you laughed at my complete lack of grace._

_But I could not recall_

_A more perfect fall_

_‘Cause when I looked up into your eyes_

_It didn't hurt at all.”_

            As he was mildly jostled by the crowd, Marco’s eyes instantly fell on the stage where Jean was. It was a little weird seeing him out of uniform for the first time, although Marco wasn’t really surprised by Jean’s style choices. Maybe he was stereotyping, but the singer’s clothes seemed to fit with the piercings and sleeve tattoo and whatever the punk-hipster-y-vibe thing Jean had going for him was.

            Jean looked _good_ though. Marco swallowed and tried to take his mind off of this while looking around. Club 3DMG, as Mina and Thomas had said, was not _that_ big but the stage was a nice size. And there was a nicely sized bar towards the back of the main floor. A balcony area with standing ( _or dancing_ , Marco noted) room lined the show room and there were stairs leading up to it at the four corners of the fairly accommodating room. Mina was the one who brought Marco back to the show as she piped up above the noise of the room.

            “That lead guitarist is pretty cute!” Marco’s gaze returned to the stage and he briefly took in the guy with the beanie who was playing beside Jean before his eyes inevitably slid back to the singer. Thomas rolled his eyes at Mina, before asking if they wanted to get a little closer to the stage. All three agreed and soon Marco and Thomas were making their way closer to the center of the room with Mina following in the paths they cleared.

            It wasn’t long before the first song ended and Jean was speaking into the mic. All the members had microphone stands.

            “Yo, thanks for coming out,” said Jean, running a hand through his hair and grinning a little wickedly at the crowd, “I know we’re just the opening act tonight but we wanna thank you guys for coming out to 3DMG!”

            Cheers and yelling filled the room and somebody screamed “Scouting Legion!” towards the front of the room. Marco wondered if Eld and his girlfriend were here tonight.

            “Alright,” Jean continued speaking over the crowd, “I’m gonna shut up now so we can do our jobs and get this night started!”

            His last sentence was met with another roar from the crowd and behind him the band instantaneously sprung back into action.

_“I had a dream so big and loud!_

_I jumped so high I touched the clouds!_

_Whoa-o-o-o-o-oh, Whoa-o-o-o-o-oh!_

_I stretched my hands out to the sky!_

_We danced with monsters through the night!”_

Now that a faster tempo had been established, people were starting to dance in the center of the room and more of them were jumping and getting into it in the front of the crowd. Marco, Mina and Thomas all exchanged sheepish looks before edging off towards the side.

“You guys want drinks?” asked Thomas, jerking his thumb at the bar. Mina shook her head but she continued eyeing the area of the room where the dance was going on. Marco figured she was sizing it up and it was only a matter of time before she headed in there herself.

He chuckled, and turned to Thomas, “Just grab me a beer.”

“One beer, got it,” said Thomas before making his way to the bar. The lights were much more active now and the mixing blues and purples were creating a strobe effect on the room. Mina was nice enough to wait with Marco until Thomas came back before she made her way into the crowd of dancers.

“I’ve got my phone so you guys keep me posted, I’ll catch you later!”

“Yeah, later,” said Thomas while he took a long draught from his beer, “So Marco, is there any chance I can get you to go barhopping with me for real sometime?”

Marco laughed, “Where’s this coming from all of a sudden?”

“I mean, we’ve gone out to the bars with friends and stuff and every now and then we go to parties or this concert now,” Thomas began, he was watching the stage though, “but you’re single and I’m single. We should go out and meet some girls together. It’ll be fun. Nothing serious, yeah?”

Marco took the opportunity to take his own long sip from his drink and turned his eyes back to the stage. Jean was a pretty energetic performer; he had a sort of unexpected presence on stage. It seemed like a purposefully jerky way of moving, as he played guitar and occasionally made other moves.

_“What do you know? This house is falling apart,_

_What can I say? This house is falling apart,_

_We got no money, but we got heart heart!_

_We're gonna rattle this ghost town,_

_This house is falling apart.”_

            “I don’t know,” said Marco, barely audible over the din of the concert, “it’s not really my scene. I mean I like going to the bars well enough but I’m just not, er, up for it?”

            “I get that,” said Thomas, “I just figured, you know, you’ve been here a while now. It’d be nice to hook you up with someone. Maybe Mina has a friend or something? Or maybe you know someone from your classes?”

            Marco scrunched up his nose but put on a teasing smile, “It’s okay, Thomas, really. I’m just not interested right now. School’s busy enough and I’m… I don’t know. I’m not looking for anything?”

            “Alright, alright,” Thomas thumped Marco on the back.

On stage, Jean had removed his jacket while continuing to sing. The grey t-shirt he wore hung a little lower since it was shredded on top and Jean’s clavicles stood out in the lightning, dipping and disappearing over and over again as the singer’s neck bobbed and he occasionally hunched a little. It turned out that the sleeves of the t-shirt had been somewhat shredded too and Jean’s sleeve tattoo was in full view as he continued to play. Marco’s blush was hidden by the pink and red hues the lights had taken on and he drank more beer to give himself something to do.

            _“I want everyone_

_Racing down the hill._

_I am faster than you,_

_Wait for summertime…”_

“This band is pretty good so far by the way. Thanks for bringing us out here.”

            “Yeah,” said Marco, tearing his eyes off the stage and turning his attention back to Thomas right as a new song was beginning to start. The blonde had currently scrunched up his face in confusion.

            “Isn’t this song… from Kingdom Hearts?”

            Marco blinked, but then tuned in, “Oh, hey, I think you’re right. Man, I haven’t played those games in forever.”

            “Yeah…”

            Quite a few people in the crowd were having similar reactions. Armin was beside himself, and looked ridiculously pleased even though he couldn’t help laughing. Mikasa just shook her head beside him.

            “You know you made this happen, right? It was your idea.”

            “I know!” said Armin, grinning like a maniac, “I can’t believe I got them to agree.”

            “Because Jean is just as much a nerd as you and he puts together all their covers for them?”

            Armin just laughed and waved Mikasa’s comments away, far too ecstatic about the band’s cover of “Simple and Clean.” Mikasa just smiled softly at her friend while continuing to cheer Eren and the others on. She had been jumping and singing along earlier on before she and Armin decided to take a break and get drinks. Reiner was still loudly booming along in the front while Annie quietly nursed her drink. Sasha and Connie had disappeared into the dancing mob ages ago and had yet to return.

            Back on stage, “Simple and Clean” had reached its conclusion and Jean was still grinning while he downed water in between songs. Their set would be wrapping up soon so that the next band could take over. _At least our next show is just us_ , he thought before giving Eren a nod to start into the next song.  Not that these joint shows weren’t fun. It was nice getting to leave the stage and melt into the crowd while someone else did the work. It also gave them a chance to actually hang out with their friends while a show was still going on. The fast paced guitar intro ended and Jean was singing again.

            _“Well, I came home,_

_Like a stone,_

_And I fell heavy into your arms…”_

            It was weird doing Mumford & Sons without a banjo but Eren did a good job with the melody lines and having Bert take some of them worked surprisingly well and Jean flashed them all a thumbs up by the song’s end. They were getting ready to round off their set and Ymir had a shit-eating grin on her face. Bert had his usual pleased look when shows went well and Eren was shouting at the crowd. Nothing unexpected there. 

In the midst of all the action and lights and volume, Jean had managed to spot some of their friends during the show already. Mikasa, Armin, and Reiner had all been visible singing along in the front, and Sasha and Connie tended to draw attention to themselves at random intervals (Jean was almost positive they’d been the ones downing shots halfway through). The intro to the song was underway and Jean sauntered over to his mic, smirking and ready.

_“I'm coming out of my cage_ _  
And I've been doing just fine…”_

“I love this song!” Mina shrilled while jumping up and down next to Marco. After Thomas had left to chat up some people he knew from class, Mina had managed to drag Marco into the thick of the floor and the two of them were pretty close to the stage for what Marco was pretty sure was The Scouting Legion’s last song of the night before some other band took over. Half dancing, half just jumping, Marco and Mina weren’t the only ones getting pumped for the band’s last song and the band seemed to be feeding on it.  The drummer’s short ponytail had flown out of her dark hair, the keyboardist had gotten much more active during his playing (he also seemed soaked with sweat, Marco noted), and the lead guitarist had whipped off his beanie and flung it into the crowd and was now banging his head and seemed to be moving with the audience.

 _“But it's just the price I pay._ __  
Destiny is calling me.  
Open up my eager eyes,  
'Cause I'm Mr Brightside.”

But Jean. Jean was something else. Jean was electric; his eyes were wild and the way he looked out at the audience was terrifying and wonderful. None of the band members could really compete with the keyboardist, but being under the stage lights had left most of them fairly sweaty and Jean’s thin t-shirt was clinging to him in places. Every now and then it rode up and stuck to his abdomen, leaving his skin visible until it finally flopped back down again.

            Marco grinned and yelled wildly along with everyone else in the room when the song ended—too caught up in the energy to even scold himself for the way he’d noticed Jean’s exposed stomach, the way his hip protruded just a little and the slight sheen of sweat over his skin. Beside him, Mina was wishing The Scouting Legion could take over more of the show and Marco couldn’t help but agree as Jean and the band members said a few quick words before making their way backstage. Another band was already taking their place on stage but the short transition time there was gave Marco the opportunity to wonder what would happen next. Jean and his band would come out in the crowd, right? That would only make sense since the night was still young and Jean had said they would be able to meet up at the show.

            “I’m gonna get some air,” said Marco to Mina, gesturing briefly at the area of the room away from the floor. She nodded at him, unfazed and already happy with the new band’s first song. Marco grinned as he made his way off the main floor and pulled out his phone to text Jean.

            **That was great! I’m just going to be hanging out on the edge for a while if you need to find me. :)**

            Meanwhile, Ymir was bursting out from behind backstage only to be quickly tackled by Christa who threw her arms around the taller girl and pulled her down for a kiss, “You guys were amazing, Ymir!”

            Ymir seemed a little too pleased by this reaction to put together an especially clever response but she was spared the hassle by Eren and Jean’s emergence. The two of them had gotten into a friendly tussle in the back and now emerged laughing with their arms draped over the other’s shoulders. Bert brought up the rear, smiling sheepishly and chuckling at the two morons in front of him.

            “Awesome job,” said Reiner, clapping Bert hard on the back while Annie stepped up and handed Bert a drink. The keyboardist mumbled his thanks and smiled appreciatively before taking a long draught from the beer. Eren and Jean were still laughing like demons but stopped to cry out in pain when Reiner thumped them on the back as well.

            “Reiner,” Mikasa warned.

            “What? I’m just toughening them up,” he said and laughed, “you guys were on fire tonight. Jean, that was a cool song selection.”

            “’Simple and Clean’ really came out nicely!” Armin piped up and Jean shot him a grateful smile.

Eren rolled his eyes, “Yeah that’ll have the nerd out of both your systems for the rest of the night at least.”

Armin stuck out his tongue at him while Jean moved in to put Eren in a headlock. Further attack was, however, prevented by Mikasa, who held out Eren’s beanie for him. The guitarist shoved it in his back pocket (3DMG was a little too hot for something like that and small beads of sweat could still be seen in Eren’s hair from performing under the lights).

“Nice catch,” he said to Mikasa, “I was a little worried you wouldn’t get it this time.”

“It wasn’t a very good throw,” she admitted, but smiled at him nonetheless. The group now back together (well, Connie and Sasha were still amiss), they all began moving back in front of the stage. The noise level increased dramatically as they did so. Eren was dragging Mikasa and Armin back into the main floor where the dancing had started up again, and Reiner, Annie and Bert were making their way to the bar. Jean debated following Eren until he spotted, by a stroke of luck, Marco standing by himself along the side of the room. He grinned a little and waved off Ymir and Christa before weaving his way over to Marco.

The freckled man was caught off guard when Jean popped out of the sea of bodies in 3DMG but sincerely relieved. He wasn’t getting bored per se, but after listening to a couple of songs by himself he was feeling the need to be doing something else. Jean winded over to him—feral and a little mischievous looking, still wearing only the t-shirt though he seemed to have cooled off some by now.

“Jean!”

“Hey,” said Jean once he had finally reached the other, “I can’t believe I managed to spot you in this crowd.”

“You didn’t get my text?”

Jean blinked a couple of times and then looked flustered, “Aah, _shit_ , man, I totally forgot about that. I usually keep my phone tucked into my case in back during shows like this so I didn’t even realize…”

Marco laughed at the look on his face, “It’s okay. You found me anyways. That was a great show!”

Jean flushed a little but got distinctly less flustered than he normally would. Marco supposed he was a little more used to compliments on his singing.

“Did you really like the show?” he asked. His eyes were so alive; they usually had a kind of alert keenness to them, something sharp and biting in their light brown hues but during the concert and still now they seemed charged with that electric glow that was still terrifying and wonderful.

“I really did!” Marco assured him, “You guys played some great songs. I didn’t think they would all be covers for some reason but I should have realized. The video game song was great too.”

Jean’s nose flared the tiniest bit and he disappeared for a moment before returning with one of the fliers for the show. Where he had gotten it, Marco had no idea, but he assumed they had to be hanging around places. Jean shoved the flier under Marco’s nose, the twinge of irritation was still in his face but he was also smirking.

“They specifically decided to just get a lot of the local bands together for a night of covers,” he said, scratching his nose a little, “we have some original songs too but covers are easier so this is kind of up our alley I guess but still.”

Marco smiled, “I’d love to hear the songs you wrote someday.”

Jean actually did flush a little at that, and quickly looked for a way to shift the attention away from him. His gaze darted around them, “Uh, hey, aren’t you here with anybody?”

“Oh! Yeah,” Marco internally smirked. It was obvious that Jean was flustered and just looking to turn the tables, but Marco decided to let him do it anyways and play along, “I came with two of my friends from high school but Mina’s dancing and I wanted a break and our friend Thomas ran into some people he knows.”

Jean frowned, “They didn’t ditch you though?”

“No, no!” Marco was quick to reassure him, “I don’t mind either. Just listening on your own is nice every now and then too.”

That was when Marco noticed the looks Jean was getting. They weren’t bad or anything. But people were obviously recognizing him from the stage and glancing his way a little more. Jean seemed to be noticing it a little too and he jerked his head away.

“Wanna go grab a couple of drinks?”

“Alright, just let me text Mina so she knows,” said Marco, “I don’t want her feeling abandoned.”

“Cool,” said Jean while leading the way to the bar. Annie and the others didn’t seem to be anywhere around and Jean still had yet to see Connie or Sasha _. Oh well, maybe I’ll catch up with them tomorrow and we can hang out_.

Marco looked up from his phone and re-pocketed it as they neared the bar. Jean actually ordered for them both and Marco didn’t even get the chance to catch what it was. _Oh well_. The glass was passed to him casually and he offered his thanks before accepting it, not really an experienced enough drinker to recognize it, definitely a mixed drink though. And a little bit sweet. Jean leaned against the counter and surveyed the room.

“So how’s your prick of a manager doing?” he asked casually.

Marco frowned, “Levi’s not… He’s not like that. He’s just kind of desperate to get the shop to run you know?”

Jean’s mouth formed a thin line and he held off on replying to drink. Eventually, eyeing Marco over the rim of the glass and with a look the darker haired male couldn’t quite decipher, he said, “That’s really nice of you.”

Not knowing what to say to that (or even what exactly Jean meant), Marco took a few gulps of his own drink. He had no idea how strong whatever Jean picked out was but he liked it well enough and wasn’t really planning on drinking more that night anyways.

The silence that passed between them was brief before Marco finally broke it, “So what are your band members like? They seem cool.”

Jean burst out laughing, “They’re assholes.”

Marco’s eyebrows raised.

“I mean, not really,” said Jean quickly, and he smiled so Marco thought that it probably wasn’t that serious, but his smile seemed a little sad and so Marco kept paying close attention, “They’re great and all, some of my best friends. I guess I just end up playing the outsider in the group sometimes.”

Marco’s eyebrows contracted a little at that and his eyes noticed how far down into his glass Jean had gone. He blinked and wondered when Jean had had the time to get through that much of it before glancing down at his own glass which was barely started in comparison.

“What do you mean?” he prompted carefully.

“Eeeeh,” Jean rolled his neck, “you know that feeling where you know everyone in a group but everyone is closer to someone else than you?”

            Marco pursed his lips a bit, “Yeah.”

            “It’s kinda like that, I guess,” he continued, still with that smile that told Marco that it was okay and yet (just a little bit) not okay, the kind of not okay that maybe comes out more when you’ve had almost a full glass of whatever it was Marco was drinking, “Only I don’t really mind.”

            With this last declaration, Jean tipped his head back and downed the rest of his drink and once again Marco found himself distracted by arch and dip of Jean’s neck when he did this. It was Starbucks all over again and he busied himself with his own drink to distract himself (though a small part of his mind pointed out that adding more liquor to the equation was likely to only make it worse).

            “Hey,” Marco put a hand on Jean’s arm and the singer jumped, startled by the contact but then relaxing under it, “tell me about them. They’re your best friends, right?”

            Jean smirked, and turned back to the bartender. Another drink was quickly passed his way, and Jean turned back to Marco ready to go, “Well I grew up with Eren, the jerk on the guitar, Mikasa, and Armin. If you want to talk about three people obsessed with each other…”

            And on and on it went. The stories were great. Jean’s eyes were electric still and Marco was enjoying having that spark directed at him while the source told him all about Eren, the punk Jean had spent the majority of his life fighting and tussling with and brawling over the stupidest shit with only to end up tight friends; Mikasa—den mother, guardian of all, badassery extraordinaire, and Jean’s first major crush; Armin, the brainiac who had gotten them all through their toughest classes in high school, Jean’s partner in gaming of choice, and the much needed cooling agent to Mikasa and Eren’s fire as well as Jean’s second big crush— _Wait_.

            “Wait, what?”

            Jean pulled up short and seemed confused himself for a moment, “Huh?”

            “You were saying about Armin?”

            “Oh, yeah, that’s how I realized I’m bi. I mean, I hadn’t pieced it together before ‘cause it never occurred to me that the way I looked at guys was so… Well similar to how I looked at girls and was expected to look at just girls. Or something like that, right? Isn’t that how it works? But yeah, just when I’d finally gotten over Mikasa. Well Armin was the one who sort of set me straight—haha, except not really ‘straight,’ am I right?—about Mikasa and through it all I just kind of fell for him too…”

Jean was rambling and Marco was only half-hearing by that point. _Jean’s bisexual. Jean’s interested in guys_. It had been easy enough to just get to know Jean and become friends with him when Marco had been assuming he was straight; it had been easy enough (well, sort of) to push those thoughts back but then again was it really all that surprising? Marco shook his head _. Knock it off, Marco. You can’t make yourself into some kind of convoluted bigot just because you don’t deal with your own_ —nope. _Stop_.

“What about the others?” Marco asked, pushing his own anxieties down; the first two thirds of the drink in his hand were helping with that (with minimal aid from his previous beer).

“Well,” Jean looked absentminded and thoughtful all at once, his speech was just a little slower now (he was working his way through his second drink pretty quickly too), “There’s Ymir, and Bert… Ha, another fucking close trio he’s in.”

More stories followed. Marco smiled and listened to Jean ramble and it wasn’t long until they were both laughing at the random stories of The Scouting Legion. Marco soon began chiming in with his own stories about his friends and their misadventures, woes of the education program (and dealing with a professor that Marco and his peers had begun comparing to Dr. Eggman from the Sonic games; Jean had almost spit out his drink at that), and the inevitable stories of transferring and being a junior living with a freshmen in the dorms.

“He’s such a sloppy freshmen too,” Marco went on, “I mean, like I said, he’s not bad but he’s just so _clueless_. Every time he goes to do his laundry I get so concerned because it all seems like such a struggle for him.”

“That’s adorable,” said Jean and there was a beat before they both burst out laughing at Jean’s word choice, “Shut up,” he said, trying to stifle Marco’s laughter although he was laughing just as much.

Marco—still snickering, still a little intoxicated, still caught up in that electric current coming off Jean—only snorted and blurted out a, “Make me.”

What happened next probably should not have been _as_ surprising as it was. Jean’s laughter stilled, and he stood a little straighter all of a sudden, but _his eyes_. For an instant, Marco could have sworn he’d seen and heard the air crackle between them, even with the concert lights flashing across the room and casting them in a wash of blue and gold, even with the music and the crowd still roaring and screaming for their attention. And maybe it really was this sensation that left Marco too distracted, that made him find what happened next as surprising as it felt.

It happened in an instant. Jean reached up to the back of Marco’s neck, cupping it with one hand and dragging it down. In one fluid motion, the singer had brought that freckled face an inch in front of him and that was when next came.

Jean kissed Marco. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> =w= ~ I did it. 
> 
> Anyways, let me know what you guys think. This chapter ended up WAY longer than the others and a lot happened so I'd love to hear from readers. Give me feedback, criticism, praise whatever I just wanna talk to you all. ;w; 
> 
> I'm gonna try to get the next chapter out as soon as possible (especially since this was a cliffhanger??? omfg I'm a jerk) but my schedule this semester is insane so it might be a struggle. 
> 
> THANKS FOR READING >3


	5. Echinacean Fantasy

            Picture a light bulb. Simple device really. Invented generations ago by that Edison guy to give light to the world (or so the cartoons Marco had watched growing up told him; later historical context suggested that maybe Edison didn’t quite deserve all the credit but oh well). Constructed to contain the current it holds: a line of filament runs on a circuit that the current travels through, and a thin layer of glass protects it all from exposure and damage.

            Marco had developed such a system himself, years ago. He wasn’t even sure when it had started. As a kid he’d never really grown out of his “girls are gross” phase. It just hadn’t happened. But that wasn’t so strange. No one had really noticed.

            He could still remember singing “Kookaburra Sits in the Old Gum Tree” in the fourth grade though. It stood out in his memory still and in retrospect he wondered how much of an impact that little moment had had on him.

_“Kookaburra sits on the old gum tree,_ __  
Merry merry king of the bush is he.  
Laugh, Kookaburra, laugh, Kookaburra,  
Gay your life must be!”

            The laughter that followed the fourth line—each and every time, no matter how much their music teacher begged them to calm down and _please be serious_ —continued to be audible in Marco’s mind. Fourth grade Marco had been so confused. Why was that line funny? He couldn’t begin to get his head around it. It wasn’t until lunch when his friends started talking about it that he started to piece it together.

            Gay. It was just the word gay. That was it. That was all it had took to send his classmates into fits of laughter and endless jokes. _Gay_ and a room full of fourth graders were beside themselves with laughter.

            But that was really only the beginning after all. Once junior high rolled around, Marco had started becoming aware of certain tendencies he was harboring. By that point, his lack of interest in girls was no longer easy to wave off though luckily he was old enough that no one would be suspicious if he kept to himself and didn’t talk about any romantic or sexual inclinations; he could hide behind a veil of awkwardness after all, complete with pimples.

            High school and the baseball team was the next big challenge. But Marco had developed a system by that point. The current ran through his head on a continuous loop, flushing out the things Marco wanted to erase—suppressing them. He was self-aware, he could control his emotions. He could control his thoughts. He would keep flushing them out in an endless cycle, applying that layer of glass to keep the whole process hidden away as he did so. It was a cycle he had constructed within himself and for the vast majority of his life it had worked.

            _But Jean_. What had Jean done?

            It was as if he’d punctured a hole in that perfectly crafted glass that Marco had worked so hard building up. Oxygen rushed in and the whole circuit blew up. No. That wasn’t it. Maybe it was Jean’s own current that had hit Marco hard, creating a power surge and blowing the whole thing up.

            Whatever it was—a puncture wound and subsequent oxygen flow, an overdriven surge, _whatever_ —Marco could almost hear the explosion in his mind when that light bulb blew. An audible crack followed by an overwhelming wave of need and a million other released, suppressed feelings that effectively bulldozed him. All his control went spiraling out of him and dissipated into the air of Club 3DMG.

            Jean had kissed him, and for a brief fleeting moment Marco froze and his eyes widened, completely still in light of the detonation occurring within him. That pause was followed by pure desperation.

            Both of Marco’s hands flew up to the back of Jean’s head, fingers entwining in that two-toned hair and pushing Jean even closer. He reciprocated the kiss with such force that Jean’s eyes bulged open in shock for a second; in that instant, he saw Marco and only Marco—Marco in the flashing colored lights of the concert, whose freckles looked like stars or some kind of celestial shit between all the strobes, the alcohol and their sheer proximity to Jean’s own eyes.

            Once he was over the initial surprise, Jean pushed back and his other arm found its way around Marco’s waist. The two of them kissed so forcefully that their teeth briefly clacked against each other and that was when Marco short-circuited. He pulled up short and withdrew from Jean so abruptly that they could both make out the wet, suction-y sound of their lips parting, just barely audible over the ongoing sounds around them.

            “Marco?”

            Jean’s eyes were a little lidded, his voice a little breathy, and the skin between his eyebrows had crinkled in confusion. Marco opened his mouth to speak but the words didn’t come out.

            _It happened. I kissed back. It happened.  It happened.  It happened.  It happened.  It happened.  Oh my god. It happened._

            “Marco?” Jean prompted him again, more insistent this time and his eyes no longer heavy with the effects the kiss had had on him. _The kiss_. On instinct alone, Marco’s eyes frantically scanned the room around them. The show was still going on. People were into the song. Had anybody seen? _Thomas. Mina._ Where were they? Unable to spot anybody he knew in the crowd, the slightest ounce of relief hit him and that was enough to spur him into action. Marco closed his mouth and tore out of the room.

            “Marco! Wh-”

              Jean stood rooted to the spot, blinking after Marco and watching the other’s abrupt departure through the crowd. When he finally snapped out of it, he grit his teeth and dived back into the crowd to go after him.

            Despite having never been to Club 3DMG before, Marco managed to find the exit easily enough. Fresh air hit him in the face and he breathed it in greedily (he hadn’t realized how dense with sweat and people the air inside had become). It was dark out now. Marco stared up at the sky, counting the stars that had already begun peeking out and unaware that moments ago Jean had been comparing the freckles on his face to them.  

            _It’s okay. No one saw. It’s okay. You’re in charge of yourself, remember? You decide what you do and who you are._

            “Marco, what the _fuck_?”

            _Shit_.

            Marco spun around to face Jean. The singer was standing there, still without his jacket, shivering in his thin t-shirt. His right hand came up to rub his left arm for warmth. He stared Marco down, eyebrows pinched in irritation and concern. Marco bit his lip.

            When it became obvious Marco wasn’t going to offer up any sort of explanation, Jean sighed and asked, “Alright, what the hell was that?”

            Another long pause followed this question, but finally Marco got it together enough to speak, “Sorry.”

            Jean arched an eyebrow, “Yeah, okay. That’s a start.”

            Marco got the impression (okay, he already knew full well, it was so obvious) that Jean wasn’t a patient guy so he attempted to hurry things along for his sake. He faked a nervous laugh and Jean’s eyebrows both raised at that.

            “M-must’ve had more to drink than I thought,” he stammered.

            Both of Jean’s eyebrows instantaneously contracted as soon as the words left his mouth, “Wait… Are you seriously freaking out because I kissed you?”

            _And I kissed back. No. Stop that, Marco_.

            “Don’t take it the wrong way,” said Marco, hoisting a smile to his face and hoping his voice didn’t sound that fake, “I don’t kiss guys.”

            Now Jean just looked confused, “You’re straight?”

            “No- yes- no I-… Yes.”

            A long pause followed this declaration. Both of Jean’s hands were on his arms trying to work some more warmth into them now. His eyes narrowed; he didn’t need to speak to let Marco know that he’d better start explaining for real.

            Feeling jittery and unbalanced and hating himself, Marco shrugged helplessly, “I don’t kiss guys.”

            “If you say that one more time, I’ll punch you in the face,” said Jean, it sounded like he was half kidding but Marco wasn’t too confident about that one way or another, “cut the crap, Marco. What’s really going on? So what? You’re deeply closeted? Or are you actually having some kind of identity crisis right now?”

            Marco bit his lip and looked down. He shoved his hands in his pockets and slumped.

            “Sorry, Jean… I don’t know what else to say,” he slowly raised his head to look the other in the eyes, pleading, begging, desperate, “I… I don’t kiss guys.”

            Jean didn’t punch Marco in the face. Something in the other’s tone threw him off. Marco sounded so… defeated. Jean cocked his head to the side, examining the slumped figure before him. His frown deepened and slowly, hesitating a little, he stepped forward until he was directly in front of the other.

            Marco blinked back uncertainly, still half expecting a punch to his jaw.

            But instead, Jean heaved a tired sigh and said, “That’s some pretty weak ass word choice.”

            The singer raised himself up just enough and planted a quick kiss on Marco’s lips, softer, faster than the other could even react; it seemed like a question. But Marco knew he didn’t have an answer ready.

            Jean didn’t seem particularly interested in one though and actually started turning around to head back into the club.

            “Go home and get some sleep, Marco. I’ll see you around.”

            Marco watched Jean’s retreating form until the other was back inside the club. It was hard to gauge how long he remained standing out there but eventually he dug around in his pocket, and brought out his phone to text Mina and Thomas that he was calling it a night. Biting his lip one more time, he turned away from the club and started slowly making his way back to the dorms.

***

            “Hey, it’s Jean!”

            At Eren’s word, Mikasa and Armin both turned around. The singer was making his way over to them on the dance floor. Armin tilted his head as Jean approached.

            “Jean, are you okay?”

            “I’m fine,” he said, eyebrows contracting in irritation at the question.

            Eren rolled his eyes, “Quit being such a bitch. Armin’s just worried.”

            “It’s fine, Eren,” said the blonde, intervening before Jean could, “didn’t you two say you were going to find Sasha and Connie? We’re all leaving for Annie, Reiner, and Bertholdt’s place soon.”

            Eren and Mikasa glanced between Jean and Armin.

            “Yeah, alright, we’ll go round them up,” said Eren and the two disappeared into the crowd again. Armin turned to Jean and smiled slightly.

            “So are you really okay?”

            Jean’s brow furrowed, “I told you, I’m fine,” he protested loudly.

            Armin pursed his lips in thought, “I saw what happened earlier. Who was that? Eren did say some guy was coming for you.”

            Jean flushed scarlet, “He didn’t come _for me_ or anything. I just invited him and he came, damnit.”

            Armin raised his eyebrows at that, “Well if you say so. Are _you_ coming with us tonight?”

            Jean thought this over while the short blonde watched him quietly, “No, I’m really not in the mood.”

            Armin offered a smile and said softly, “C’mon, let’s go outside and talk. I need some fresh air anyways and Eren and Mikasa are sure to take forever tracking down Connie and Sasha.”

            They made a quick pit stop in the back so that Jean could grab his belongings. Then Jean sighed and trailed behind Armin, exiting the building for the second time in the past twenty minutes. When they were outside, Armin drew his arms around him, shivering in his sweater while Jean put his guitar case down on the sidewalk and sat down on the curb. Armin followed his lead, blonde hair cascaded into his face as he peered over at Jean.

            “So what happened? It looked pretty intense.”

            Jean dragged his hand along the lower side of his face and groaned, “What the hell? You’re just gonna drag it out of me anyways. I don’t really know what else to say though. I mean, how much did you see?”

            “All of it, I guess,” Armin shrugged, “you kissed him, he kissed back, he ran away.”

            “Nosy brat,” Jean scoffed and Armin laughed. Jean’s smile faded as he went on, “He said he doesn’t kiss guys.”

            “He’s straight?”

            Jean barked a bitter laugh, “Not fucking likely.”

            Armin’s lips pulled into a frown, “Ah… The infamous closet case. You have found it.”

            “I’m not sure if he’s in the closet or just fucking in denial,” Jean ran a hand through his hair and screwed up his face in irritation.

            “He could come around,” said Armin mildly, “college is probably the best time of your life to do that, after all.”

            “Good for him,” muttered Jean, “that doesn’t make it my job to deal with.”

            Armin chewed on his lip before replying, “Well, what happened out here? What’d you do?”

            “…”

            “I mean, he said he doesn’t kiss guys. And then…?”

            Jean buried his face in his hands and mumbled, his voice even more muffled through his long fingers, “I kissed him.”

            Armin’s eyebrows rose and he broke into a wide grin. It was a little disconcerting, to be honest. Even in the poorly lit side of the street they were huddled on, Armin could make out Jean’s uncomfortable blush.

            “You like him.”

            “No fucking shit, Armin.”

            “No, but, Jean, this is great. It’s been a while since you’ve really-”

            “Yeah, and he’s clearly so available for a relationship right now,” Jean muttered, the sarcasm dripping off his voice. Armin gave Jean a pitying smile in response and patted him on the back.

            “Don’t call it quits yet, Jean. That would be such a waste.”

            Silence greeted the blonde’s comment and Armin just chuckled at Jean’s unresponsiveness; he was far too used to the other’s mood swings. They sat in silence for a while until Armin’s phone went off. He sprang to his feet while pulling out his phone.

            “Hey, they found them!” he chirped, before smiling at Jean uncertainly, “You sure you don’t want to come?”           

            Jean rolled his neck and stretched before standing as well, “Nah, I’m gonna call it a night.”

            “Hmm,” Armin’s voice was teasing, “Not interested in seeing if you can pick anybody up at the house?”

            Jean sneered at him, “Shut it, you little brat.”

            Armin just snickered in response, “If you really want to get out of the party, you should get out of here while you still can. You know if the others catch you slinking away they’re just going to drag you along.”

            Jean glanced at the exit to Club 3DMG and hiked his guitar case up, “Yeah good point. Alright, I’m outta here.”

            “Bye, Jean!”

            “Later.”

            By that point, it was pretty chilly out and Jean wasted no time making his way home. When he finally opened the door to his apartment, Pastor Nick greeted him with the usual hissing fit. He flipped the cockroach off for good measure.

He had to fight off the urge to collapse into his bed right then and there. Instead he stowed his guitar and belongings away before hopping into the shower. It wasn’t until Jean was toweling off and heading back to his room that he paused by the doorway to Ymir’s room.

_“Thigh highs…”_ Her voice echoed in his head like a creepypasta soundtrack. He shuddered and instantly turned into his room before digging out his phone, complete with its many playlists and recordings.

“I am not about that life,” he said to his empty room and proceeded to shove his earphones deep into his ears before selecting a mellower playlist to fall asleep to. Once that was done, Jean rolled onto his bed while scrolling through things on his phone; he finally got around to checking his messages. There were a few from his friends during the show but one stood out to him instantaneously from a number he had only recently procured.

            **That was great! I’m just going to be hanging out on the edge for a while if you need to find me. :)**

In his darkened room, with only the light from the street and his phone illuminating the space, Jean smiled to himself and curled up before pulling his blanket up to his chin.

***

            In his dorm on campus, Marco was already in bed but sleep had so far eluded him. He rolled onto his back again and sighed at his ceiling. Tousled hair drooped into his face and he blew it out of the way instinctively. _What a mess_.

            He groaned. Luckily, his roommate was out for the night and there was no telling when he’d get back. It had been nice having some time to himself after the… fiasco that the end of Jean’s show had been. Marco felt his face heat up at the thought and he brought both hands to his face.

            _This is ridiculous. I’m being ridiculous_. Marco’s hands dropped to his sides and he stared at the ceiling. It was hard for him to get his head around it. In a way, he’d always known—been fully aware of—what he’d been doing. He’d known. All along, he’d known. But now, alone in his bed, after having come so close to making out with Jean in the middle of a club he had to wonder what the point of it all had been. What was the end goal? Was he actually trying to make himself straight or did he really think self-control alone would be enough to last a lifetime?

            His thoughts were interrupted by a scratch on wood and the sound of a key turning loudly in its lock. The sound of messy hands and giggling erupted in Marco’s dorm room. He stiffened and froze. Light from the hallway streamed into the small room and Marco’s roommate and some girl made their way in and towards his bed.

            “Is he asleep?” she whispered. _Nope_.

            “Yeah, I think so.” _Think again_.

            More hushed talking (that really wasn’t so hushed) followed along with creaking noises when they both found the bed on the other side of the room. Marco clenched his eyes shut and remained frozen in his bed. He’d been expecting something like this for a while. His roommate went out every weekend; it was only a matter of time before he brought a girl back with him. _But still. Why tonight of all nights?_

It wasn’t long before Marco’s nightmare was confirmed: his roommate was having sex. While he was in the room. Doing his best to block it out, Marco waited for a particularly loud moment (the dorm’s beds did creak a lot) to quickly pull his pillow over his head. And that was how Marco fell asleep: a pillow over his face, still muddled by thoughts of Jean, and praying for sleep to come swiftly.

***

“Jean, get your ass out of bed!” Followed by banging on his door.

Those were the sounds Jean woke to the morning after the concert. He groaned and shifted deeper under the blankets. Unfortunately, it seemed that Ymir had a sixth sense and could tell what Jean was doing from the other side of the door. She banged on it again.

“NOW.”

A louder groan emitted from within the blankets and the top half of Jean’s body slowly slid off the side of the bed. Hanging somewhat upside down, he rubbed at his eyes and sniffed the air. There were only two reasons Ymir would ever wake him up (weekend or weekday): 1) some kind of natural disaster or 2) food. What number 2 really meant was: “Christa’s making the most banging breakfast of your life and you better crawl out here and eat it and be motherfucking grateful _or else_.” (Said breakfast was also probably a show of gratitude to Ymir for amazing sex the night before but Jean tried not to dwell on that aspect of it. He couldn’t help but feel weird eating the excess food meant to thank his roommate for sex.)

Pushing such thoughts down, Jean stumbled out of his room and into the kitchen. Sure enough, Ymir was now perched on the counter, swinging her long legs while pigging out on eggs.

Christa smiled at Jean and didn’t miss a beat at his entrance, “What would you like in your omelet?”

Jean heaved a mighty yawn before replying, “A month of sleep.” A warning glare from Ymir prompted him to amend this statement, “Mushrooms and pepper would be great. We have that right?”

“Sure do,” Christa chirped before reaching for the necessary ingredients.

Jean shook his head while watching her cook, his mind still muddled with sleep, “You’re a saint. Why are you dating this ape?” Her jerked a thumb at Ymir and made his way over to the fridge to pour a glass of juice. (Ymir kicked him in the ass when he passed by her.)

At Jean’s question, Christa had only laughed and beamed at Ymir, whose freckled face flushed at the look. Jean rolled his eyes; he didn’t even want to know.

But his filter had yet to wake up so he continued the joke, “Date me instead. I can sing. I hear people find that sexy.”

Christa smirked (a Christa version of a smirk, which really looked more like a smile but there was something mocking in it somehow) and didn’t even take a beat to come up with her response, “No thanks, Jean. I prefer girls who are good with their hands.”

Jean choked on his juice and had to spit some of it in the kitchen sink in order to survive that comment. This only incited more laughter from Ymir and Christa.

Red in the face and still coughing, Jean managed a weak retort, “I mean… I play guitar too…” Still, he gave up the joke; defeat had been admitted and he accepted his omelet from Christa with his tail tucked between his legs. Christa gave him a pat on the cheek.

“So what’s with the jokes, Jean?” asked Ymir between mouthfuls (Christa was providing Ymir with so much food that Jean couldn’t help but marvel at how he’d slept through the night once the two of them had inevitably returned from the party), “Did your pretty boy not show?”

Jean shrugged between forkfuls of eggs and veggies, “He did. Things got a little complicated though. That’s all.”

Christa frowned, “Want to talk about it?”

“Nah, I’m not really in the mood. Besides, Armin already forced a conversation out of me last night.”

“Too much communication for Jean,” Ymir shook her head, “one conversation was too much. Jean needs to be locked away with his music for a few days to recover.”

Jean rolled his eyes, “Shut it. I’m not _that_ closed off.”

“That’s true,” said Ymir, “especially when you have a crush on the person in question. So you should go talk to Mister Complicated.”

“I’ll take that under advisement,” he said, scooping the rest of his omelet into his mouth quickly before setting his plate down.

Christa blinked, “What’s the rush?”

“I’m heading to the gym. Clear my head. Plus I gotta study for a listening exam for this week and I might as well be jogging while I listen to the songs,” he paused and added, “Can I grab a piece of toast on my way out?”

“Sure thing. Butter?”

“And honey please.”

“That’s sweet, Jeannie,” Ymir cooed.

“Shut it.”

Not a minute later, Jean was walking back out of his room with his gym bag slung over a shoulder. He paused briefly in the entryway of the kitchen to let Christa shove a piece of toast in his mouth before heading towards the door. As he unlocked their door and made to leave, he stopped and glanced around the room curiously. Nothing had hissed at his impending departure.

“Where’s Pastor Nick?”

Christa spread a glob of jelly onto her own toast and shoved it in her mouth, giving Jean her most innocent look. Ymir just cackled, “Oh, I took care of him.”

“I don’t even want to know,” said Jean. And he slipped out the door before any more could be said. _Ymir gets scary when she’s drunk_.

***

_Saturday afternoon seems to be the busiest shift here_ , thought Marco as he continued walking the floors of Stohess and maintaining the store's sample stations while fielding questions from customers. He sighed internally. After last night, this was a lot more action than he was really feeling up for but he couldn't really complain. Work was work, after all.

Besides, at least being busy meant Auruo couldn’t keep talking to him about school. Marco suppressed the urge to roll his eyes at that. Honestly, he hated to stereotype but he had met far too many Engineering students like Auruo who only wanted to talk your ear off about how great their college was and how great his job prospects would be after graduating and this type of engineering and that type of engineering and something about numbers. _Who even knows? At least I’m not Petra._ The engineering grad student had taken to pestering Petra nonstop and didn’t seem to realize that lording his engineering studies over her English classes was not making his advances any more effective.

The other perk to a busy Saturday shift was that Marco had very little time to dwell on the events of the previous night.

“Hey, Marco,” Eld called over while the freckled employee was cleaning up small spills around a station, “were you at the concert last night?”

Marco straightened and smiled at the other, “Yeah, it was a great show.”

“I thought I saw you in the crowd,” Eld smirked, “scoping out the enemy or something like that?”

Marco laughed nervously before moving to the counters, “Something like that.”

The usual nonstop stream of Saturday customers continued on and for a while Marco was able to work in peace. Things began to go wrong towards the end of the shift although Marco only became aware of it one piece at a time.

A little girl was tugging on her mother’s sleeve insistently and Marco was barely aware of what she was saying, “Mommy, there’s a bug.”

It hardly even registered until he had walked to the other end of the store to point out their jasmine selection to another customer. But when it did, he whipped his head back in their direction just in time to see a few people jump back and then a woman screamed.

_“COCKROACH!”_

Chaos erupted in the small store. There were, obviously, plenty of customers who didn’t care but when the other half of the store was pushing and desperate to get out they hardly had any choice. The employees in the store were rushing to the corner where the panic had broken out from. _First things first: catch the damn bug_.

It didn’t take long for Marco, Eld and Auruo to close in on the dark spot on the floor. The cockroach was fairly large compared to the others Marco had seen and was hissing violently. Marco had his cleaning supplies in hand, Eld looked ready to step on it and Auruo was armed with a box of paper towels.

Marco made the first attempt; he stepped forward and attempted to squash the cockroach with the paper towel (still wet with Windex) in his hand. However the bug had made a break for it, darting between the legs of the three men and dashing towards the center of the floor. Eld was the next to take a stab at it, running at the cockroach and stomping on the ground over and over again. It evaded him at every turn. 

"Speedy little fucker," the blonde man muttered as Marco lunged forward to squash the intruder under the wad of paper towel only to end up sprawled on his stomach. The cockroach dashed into the floor space encompassed by their island counter and Auruo (who Marco had begun referring to as _That_ Engineer) leaped over the counter, landing catlike on the floor and simultaneously bringing the box of paper towels in his hand crashing to the ground. 

Silence followed the loud thunking noise. Eld and Marco stared at the island countertops. They hadn't been able to see what had happened once Auruo dived back there. 

"Is it dead?" Marco whispered. There was a pause and finally Auruo answered. 

"Give me that goddamn Windex. This shit is disgusting." 

Marco rushed behind the counter and made a noise of disgust as soon as he spotted the large splattered stain on the floor. He immediately handed a clean paper towel to Auruo and proceeded to spray the entire area with Windex.  

“Eld, get the mop,” he began while scrubbing. Auruo left to toss the paper towel box that had landed the finishing blow into the dumpster out back. That was when the front door to the shop opened (the store had been deserted upon the cockroach’s appearance). Marco continued listening while crouched down and wiping cockroach guts behind the counter.

“Can I help you?” asked Eld.

“I’m from the mall’s security sector,” responded a gruff voice, “someone reported a disturbance at Stohess. What’s going on over here?”

“Oh! No, no, there wasn’t an emergency or anything. A cockroach got into our store somehow and people left at once but we killed the bug and we’re cleaning up after it now. No big deal.” Marco couldn’t see how the security officer ( _Paul Blart Mall Cop?_ ) was looking at Eld but the nervous edge to Eld’s voice was making him worried. He paused his cleaning and peered over the edge of the counter just long enough to spot the middle aged man in his ill-fitting mall cop uniform standing near the doors to the store.

Mr. Security Guy sniffed, and said, “You guys have roaches?”

“We don’t have _roaches_ ,” Eld insisted, “It was one cockroach. It really wasn’t a big deal.”

“We take roaches pretty seriously in this mall, son. Mall Maria is supposed to be an upscale place.”

“I understand that but-”

“No buts. This is something we’re gonna have to talk to your manager about. We’ll have to schedule an inspection for the store, make sure you guys can keep it clean.”

“Is that really necessary? Couldn’t one bug easily-”

“Now, I don’t want to hear any more of that,” he said sternly, “Your manager isn’t in today is he?”

“No, but-”

“I’ll let the office know to inform him as soon as possible. For today you guys can stay open and carry on as usual, just be sure to clean up.”

“What do you think we were going t-”

“Thank you, sir!” Marco piped up while jumping to his feet, “We’ll be sure to keep this place tidy. Thanks for stopping by to check on us.

Eld was standing stock still when Marco approached him. Auruo was standing in the door way to the backroom frowning at everything. 

"They're calling in Levi? Over one bug?" 

Eld grit his teeth, "Fucking mall security thinks he's such tough shit. Jesus..." 

Marco bit his lip, "Come on. Let's make the store as clean as possible before anyone else gets here. It's not like we have any customers to serve." 

Neither of the men in the room verbally acknowledged what he said but they all went into action nonetheless. Marco didn’t really keep track of the time after that. Although they did have some customers trickle in, business was very slow and left them with ample time to clean and polish every surface.

The store was practically spotless when Levi came in.

***

The dying sounds of a trumpet solo were pulled from Jean's ear as he exited the gym and blinked up at the sunny sky. He released a puff of air, still fairly out of breath from the laps he had done around the track. He felt like he had a really solid handle on the songs he had to learn for Monday now and the running had helped to release a lot of the tension he'd felt since last night. 

He took a breath and pulled out his phone. He was going to text Marco. He'd been torn about this. Getting involved in Marco's sexual hang-ups wasn't really something he wanted to do. But Armin had had a point. Moreover, Jean had done some thinking while running the track. He’d asked himself multiple times what the fuck it was he wanted to do about Marco and ultimately he hadn't been able to lie to himself about wanting to help the poor bastard. Maybe that was why he'd kissed him again outside the club.

Jean shook his head and sent a text.  

**hows it going**

He really wasn't sure what he was expecting. After the events following the concert, he wasn’t even sure he’d get a response. And even if he did, what then? Armin’s words of wisdom came back to him and he was musing on the likelihood of Marco coming around when his phone alerted him to a new message. Well. He _certainly_ wasn't expecting the immediate response he got back. 

**I just got off of the worst shift of my life :(**

Jean blinked and frowned. He looked in the direction of the mall. _It really isn't that far from here..._ Plugging his earphones back in and turning his music back on, Jean sent one quick text and started running again. 

**meet u at the big fountain in the mall in 15 minutes**

***

Marco blinked down at his phone. 

**meet you at the big fountain in the mall in 15 minutes**

_What- he's not actually coming over here is he?_ Marco bit his lip and tried to ignore the way his heart kind of swelled at the thought. _Maybe he had work today too. He might have already been in the mall, Marco_...

That thought in mind, Marco pocketed his phone and headed to the fountain square with his coffee. When he got there, he still had roughly ten minutes before Jean could show up so he sipped his coffee and people watched while trying to put things in perspective. It was just one shift. It would be okay. He wouldn't be fired. It was just a part time job anyways. There was no reason to be upset. 

It wasn't long before he spotted that two toned hair moving through the moderate Saturday late afternoon crowd. Jean looked a little out of breath as he approached Marco's bench. 

"Hey."

"Hey... You didn't... run here did you?" 

Jean shrugged in a no-big-deal kind of way, "I was at the gym studying and left when you texted back. It's only like a fifteen minute jog." 

Marco's brows furrowed, "You didn't have to do that." 

"Shut up, I wanted to." 

A tired sigh escaped Jean's lips as he tucked his earphones away and collapsed on the bench next to Marco. The freckled man fidgeted a little and took a drawn out sip of his coffee. Jean was staring at him out of the corner of his eye. 

 

"So what happened?"

"Oh, uh..." Marco looked down at his cup, "it was... Well, honestly it was a nightmare, Jean. I thought Levi was going to fire me or something." 

Jean raised his eyebrows, "That bad, huh?" 

"Yeah..." Marco rubbed the back of his neck, "A cockroach showed up in the middle of the shift." 

A slight shudder ran through Jean's body, "How'd you guys even get a cockroach? Your store is like insanely clean. And the mall takes pest control seriously."

"I don't know. It popped up in the corner of the store and all the customers lost it and left and then Eld and I tried to kill it but then this jerk I work with managed to squash it and while we were cleaning someone from mall security came by and told us they'd contacted our manager because someone complained and there’s gonna be an inspection and then Eld got like really angry and was going to tell off the cop, who was a complete ass, and so we kept cleaning the store as much as possible until Levi showed up and then he just..." 

Marco finally paused and took a deep breath. Jean's eyes had widened throughout the duration of his story. 

"He was just so angry. I've never seen him like that.”

            “What? He didn’t yell at you guys did he?” Jean’s eyes narrowed, “It wasn’t even your fault!”

            “Yeah, I mean it happened on our watch but-”

            “Like you can control that.”

            “Jean, I know but I still just…” Marco sighed, “I just felt bad. And Levi wasn’t really taking it out on us. I mean, he was really mad and it was scary sure but I think it was more at the situation… I was still just scared that our jobs were going to be the subsequent damage.”

            “Still wouldn’t have been fair.”

            “No but- he has it rough you know? This store is a big deal to him. He hasn’t had a very, um, easy life and I guess the store’s a way to turn it around. But now with this rivalry and that stupid cockroach…”

            Jean was silent. The sounds of the mall and the fountain surrounded them for a minute before Jean finally stretched and changed the subject.

            “I was surprised you texted me back.”

            Marco blinked, “Why’s that?”

            Jean arched an eyebrow, “Last night?”

            “Oh… Oh!” In all the panic and strife of the day, Friday night’s events had been temporarily swiped from Marco’s mind. “Right… I hadn’t even thought of that today to be honest.”

            “Ah,” Jean turned his face towards the fountain but his eyes remained turned towards Marco, “thinking about it now?”

            There really wasn’t any hiding the blush on Jean’s face when he asked that question out in broad daylight like this; it was a pretty clear fall day after all.

            “Um…” Marco fiddled with his coffee cup, “I really am sorry about how I reacted.”

            “You already apologized.”

            “I know. I still feel bad though,” he looked up at the sky and continued, “I-… Don’t really know how to undo… everything I’ve done up until now.”

            Jean’s mouth formed a thin line.

            “…Jean?”

            “What’s the point in waiting?”

            “Huh?”

            “Well, I just- I don’t get it because I don’t know what the fuck the endgame is there.”

            Marco’s eyes widened.

            _What was the end goal? Was he actually trying to make himself straight or did he really think self-control alone would be enough to last a lifetime?_

            “If you just say shit like you ‘don’t know how to undo something’ and then do nothing then nothing’s gonna fucking happen you know?”

            Marco pursed his lips, “I know. It’s just… a lot to process.”

            Jean scratched his nose, “Are you?”

            “What?”

            “Um, processing?”

            “Oh,” Marco looked back down at his coffee, “I-… Yeah. I’m… I’ve been thinking about things.”

            “Do you like girls at all?”

            He fidgeted, “… Not really.”

            “Guys?”

            Marco looked Jean in the eyes for a moment. There was something determined and serious and- Jean flushed and averted his gaze. He inhaled before speaking again.

            “So why’d you… um… Well why’d you not-”

            “My life’s been kind of perfect.”

            “H- what?”

            Marco cleared his throat awkwardly, “Well… Two parents with good jobs. Two siblings. A happy family. It was kind of the perfect American set up. It sounds so cliché but that’s how it is. They’re loving and supportive. I’m the oldest. I always got good grades. I had good friends. I stayed active. I-… I don’t know. I didn’t want to… I felt like it would ruin everything.”

            “So…” Jean’s face scrunched up, “What? Your life was… too perfect for you to be… gay?”

            Marco looked fairly ashamed when Jean spoke, “Horrible, right?”

            Jean didn’t really have a response ready for that one.

            “I just… I didn’t want to accept it,” Marco continued, “I felt like… I mean, I’d grown up hearing the jokes and the comments and you see those tragic stories on TV about gay teens and I didn’t want that. I wanted my life to stay perfect and ‘normal’ and I thought… it would ruin everything.”

            Jean exhaled slowly, “Normal, huh?”

            Marco bit his lip, “You know what I mean… That’s what I always thought. I just absorbed so much of it over time. I bought into it so much.”

            “What about now?”

            “Hm?”

            “Well, we’re in college now. It’s pretty easy to find people here who don’t give a shit about any of that.”

            “Oh, I know that. I do. It’s just so much easier… just not thinking about it.”

            If Jean’s face looked any more skeptical it probably would have slid into another dimension, “Really? It’s easier?”

            Marco ducked his head in shame, “… I’m not really in the mood for the rest of this. Want some coffee?”

            Wordlessly, Jean snatched the coffee cup away from him and downed the remaining caffeine. Marco tried not to watch his neck.

            Jean seemed to notice Marco’s gaze this time, but he looked bitter about it, “It’s really easier?”

            A long pause followed this. Marco sighed and leaned back, “No… it’s not.”

            Grimacing a little about what he was officially signing himself up for, Jean crushed the paper coffee cup in his hand and tossed it into the garbage can beside the bench.

            “Marco… Do you… Want to…”

            Marco’s eyes had widened and he was staring at Jean.

            “I mean, would you like…” He coughed.

            A blush was coming over Jean’s face. He also (strangely) seemed to be fighting back the urge to laugh.

            “Do you want to be gay with me?”

            Silence.

            “Wh-… What.” It wasn’t even a question. Marco couldn’t even get his mind around what was happening.

            Jean’s shoulders were shaking and finally he tilted his head back and let out loud peal of laughter. Marco spluttered and joined Jean in laughing. He hunched over and put a hand over his mouth while Jean remained leaning back. _He sounds like a horse when he loses it like that, oh my god_.              

            “Jean, wh-” more laughter, “are you feeling alright?”

            Jean wiped a tear out of his eye and his laughter had subsided into chuckles now, “Sorry, I- Yeah. That… My roommate said that to her girlfriend once. I was thinking- I was like, ‘how can I ask this?’ I mean, how do I get permission to like… do whatever it is we’re doing now. And then I just remembered Ymir’s shitty pick up line for Christa and I-…”

            He relapsed into fits of neighing laughter.

            Marco laughed too though it had taken on a slightly nervous tone at the implications behind what Jean was saying.

            “I mean, it worked for Ymir.”

            Marco’s face flushed a little; he could feel the conversation heading towards the more serious approach to this topic.

            “I don’t know if you really want to wait around for me, Jean. I’m not up for much now.”

            “We can start,” Jean paused, and his eyes had that same intensity and electric quality to them from the night of the concert, “by just hanging out.”

            Marco looked around the mall; he took in the fountain, the people milling through the area, the small gardens lining some of the walkways. Jean was watching him carefully.

            He smiled.

            “That sounds great, Jean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I... I DID IT. LESS THAN A MONTH THIS TIME WHOOOOO.   
> [school is kicking my ass]   
> [life is kicking my ass]  
> [life] 
> 
> Anyways, I hope this chapter was good enough for everybody! :) A lot of big things happened. 
> 
> I got an ask on Tumblr about the titles of the chapters. First of all, they are all types of tea. I've been trying to convey some meaning with them and I try to include a moment of tea drinking in the chapter but this doesn't always work out entirely. [Fireside Tea, from the last chapter, is an alcoholic drink with tea in it] 
> 
> I figured it would be prudent to explain each chapter title to you guys so for this chapter: Echinacea is a type of tea that works wonders for your health. It's recommended as one of the best things to drink when you're sick! :) Nobody drank any in this chapter, however I wanted it to convey the healing process, the process of acceptance, that Marco is finally beginning. 
> 
> Casual reminder that you can find my tumblr here:   
> http://joycelop.tumblr.com/
> 
> I'll try to get the next update out as soon as I can but as previously stated this semester is particularly stressful so I can't make promises. AT LEAST THIS WASN'T A CLIFFHANGER. 
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated and you're free to talk to me on tumblr too! I love hearing from you guys. QwQ 
> 
> Thanks for reading~


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